Blood
by stormus
Summary: AU. Some things are buried for a reason. Only problem is, it's all too easy to unearth them again. Vincent is about to learn that everything you do has consequences, and dealing with them is never anything but a pain.
1. Chapter 1

Blood: Chapter 1 - Past issues

_A second project had been proposed during Midgar's construction. It was only logical that the inhabitants of Midgar would need fresh drinking water, so a proposal had been put forward to create a reservoir in the river on the other side of the Midgar range and pipe it to the city underneath the mountains. With a stamp of approval, the building work began, ending with an eighty foot dam made up of more than a thousand tonnes of concrete and steel. _

_Work laying the pipes had presented an unexpected hurdle. Drilling caused a significant amount of earth to fall away, leaving a large cavern underneath the mountains. The Midgar range was already known to be a rich source of Mythril, and as a consequence the cavern was lined with it. Heat produced by the drilling process melted the mythril, causing it to harden around the walls in sheets, strengthening them considerably. The new cavern was incorporated into the already existent mythril mines. _

_When the time came to flood the valley however, the water pooled in the cavern, leaving the valley clear. _

_Strange how things could veer away from the plan. This thought brought a smile to Vincent's face as he leant on the railings atop the dam, watching the water in the pool below. Record rainfall had swollen the river to twice its normal size, bursting its banks further upstream and making good the term 'flood plain'. The abundance of water reaching the dam roared over the top of it, cascading down the central ridge in jagged waves of white, crashing into the pool below and swirling the dirty yellow foam into a roiling mess. _

_'Not pretty on the eyes.' Vincent thought with a grimace. Suddenly impatient, he checked his watch. That man was almost an hour late. As interesting as water was, there was only so much one could take before it began to get boring. It all looked the same, the only variety arriving in the form of a lost fish, hurtling over the edge and into the pool below. That was just sad to see; poor thing, meeting such a grisly end. These were alien thoughts, Vincent wondering where they could have come from. He had seen fish meet much worse fates on the sea shore back in Wutai. He clearly remembered wandering barefoot along the sand, only to find a group of fishermen dragging their catches ashore and gutting the poor things while still alive. Humans did such terrible things to innocent creatures. _

_"Could at least have cudgelled the poor bastards first." He murmured into his arms, folded as they were on the rusty safety rail in front of him. _

_At least the rain had let up. Summer was dying slowly, that unmistakable scent of Autumn in the warm breeze. Time had gone by too quickly, Vincent unsure where the days had gone. Maybe he needed a vacation? _

_He started, almost leaping out of his skin at the sudden thrum of the machines in the pump house starting up. "God, what's wrong with me lately?" He asked aloud, nobody present to answer him. Of course not. If that man had turned up on time then there would have been none of this waiting around, no opportunity to startle at sudden noises. He snapped to attention, the sound of soles on gravel moving his hand inside his jacket to his cross draw. _

_"Sorry I'm late." Daniel apologised, checking his watch as he approached along the walkway, "I got side tracked." _

_"I see." Of course it did not pay to be tetchy with executives, but after such a long wait Vincent had no desire to pretend. _

_He stepped back, forcing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, Daniel leaning over the railings to look down at the wall below. "Well, there it is." He pointed out the sapling clinging to the concrete for dear life. "I don't know how that little guy got there, but he can't stay." Straightening, he dusted himself down and turned to Vincent, "That is going to require a wire. Any other concerns?" _

_Though he knew Vincent was only there to help, Daniel stiffened as the Turk reached inside his suit jacket, visibly relaxing as he took out a folded piece of white paper. Vincent snack a look at his companion over his shades, unfolding the paper in his hands. Reputations tended to preceded you, and when your reputation branded you as 'Bloody Valentine' to your colleagues, it was no surprise that people reacted with such mistrust. 'Bloody Valentine', how distasteful. "The maintenance detail check the pump house equipment regularly, so there are no complaints there, but there is some question as to the structural integrity of the dam itself." The snort he received was enough indication of Daniel's answer to that question, the man's action demonstrating his feelings, _

_"Balls!" Daniel answered, hopping up and down on the walkway, "I don't see any sliding, do you?" _

_"No, Sir, but I have my orders as you have yours." _

_"Mr. Valentine, when you put as much work into a structure of this size as I have, you ensure that everything is perfect first time out. Some of the best engineers check this thing over yearly, and there's a regular maintenance detail as you yourself have said-" _

_"It is the President's will, Sir." _

_"Balls again! No disrespect, but all that man does is quibble over money and his pet projects. Us heads of department do the real work, therefore it is us that should be organising these little excursions." Sighing deeply, Daniel set his briefcase down, spinning on one heel to lean on the railings again. "I don't expect you to understand. No disrespect to yourself, Vincent, but all you do is follow orders. You Turks have very little free rein to do anything. I designed and built this dam, just as Reeve and I did Midgar, so forgive me when I say I know it inside out, literally. There is nothing wrong with this structure." _

_Vincent joined him at the railing, finding himself looking at that pool of foam again. 'Bile.' He took off his shades and folded them, clasping them in one hand, "I only follow orders. That is my job." _

_"Us creative minds have to work things out for ourselves. If we're given orders we can work with them. Rigidity isn't a part of my job, thank God." _

_"God forgive us all for doing our jobs." Daniel never had the chance to think about Vincent's words, the Turk grabbing him and throwing him over the railings without a second thought. Eighty feet was a long way to fall, and a slanted concrete wall was a hard thing to hit. _

_Vincent neglected to watch his victim fall, turning his back on the railings to lean against them. Really the man should have known that something was amiss; after all, what idiot would fool around with the President's wife? _

_'I would complain, if I wasn't missing the Company ball for this.' _

_The Company was down one head of Urban Development now, unless the President promoted Reeve. The youngster had shown potential in his designs for Midgar, and working as Daniel's assistant meant that he already knew the tricks of the trade. He had talent - any eighteen year old architect in training capable of designing something like Midgar deserved kudos. Or part of Midgar at least. He had come in with his own designs for certain areas while construction was under way. In truth it was still under way. Nobody seemed to be able to see an end to it. _

_Unable to stop himself, Vincent cast a glance over the railings at the pool below. Daniel was definitely dead, his lifeless body plain to see on the water's surface. At least this was a testament kill, meaning there was no need to hide it. That was good news. Vincent did not much fancy the idea of tying rocks to cadavers. Then again the alternative was to be seen at the Company ball. God, why did the President insist on these little 'get together? _

_At least Daniel's death had been quick. Vincent hunched his shoulders, that troublesome conscience of his guiltiness him. Why did Daniel have to be such a faultless individual? Insufferable people were always easy kills. He became aware of that sheet of paper in his hand. It was blank of course, that 'structural integrity' bullshit had been his own invention. Daniel really had no idea about the Turks if he thought following orders was all there was to it. Tonight had proved that a lot of that fine salary was for thinking on your feet. Admittedly, sleeping with the President's wife was a downright foolish thing to do, so perhaps the man did have his faults after all, but nothing that affected anybody beyond President Shinra himself. _

_Allowing his eyes to rove they settled on the Midgar range, standing silent in the distance under a shroud of thin mist. While they watched so quietly, Shinra tower would be abuzz with excitement; Company executives doing their level best to get in good with the President in preparation for the new financial year, the elite group of invited shareholders milling about the place, casting fearful glances at Marlon and Trey, no doubt both Turks drunk out of their minds and neglecting to check on the security crew. He allowed himself a small smile at that, remembering that it was Trey's final Shinra ball. He would be retiring in September, so would probably make a nuisance of himself somehow. _

_The red head had always been a bit of a firecracker in regards to his superiors, and it was no secret that he had no respect for Heidegger. Then again, none of the Turks did, not even himself. Vincent raised an eyebrow at that sudden realisation, lifting one hand to sweep his dark hair from his eyes and behind one ear. Trey's treatment of Heidegger was abominable, but, being Trey he could get away with it. Charmless as he was, Trey Henson was the type of man you had to like. At thirty-two years old, he was nowhere near retirement age, but had managed to get himself into trouble of a different nature to his usual spats. He had gone and made himself a father, so had taken it upon himself to leave the job he loved and care for his new son, alone. Far from learning his lesson, Trey continued to sleep with whatever he considered as a human female he could charm into bed. Idiot. _

_Still, it would be sad to see him go. Vincent leant on the concrete wall over looking the dirty brown lake, his smile broadening as he pictured Trey at the ball, setting the dance floor alight with his impressive, yet unorthodox for the occasion moves. He certainly could dance, and the way he could swing his hips was just terrifying. Had he not heard of joints? The department would not be the same without him. _

_Sad thoughts aside, Vincent straightened, dusting down his coat and burying his hands in his pockets. It was only right that he should make an appearance. As the only sensible Turk in the building (Veld was on vacation) it was necessary. More than that, it was expected. Richards, Evan and Morris would be waiting for him to come in and tame his unruly comrades (though taming Trey was usually out of the question), before they tried it themselves. Ugh, what a thought. _

_Shrugging his shoulders to settle his jacket, he started on his way along the walkway, back towards the helicopter. Above all other reasons, that pretty professor would be there to keep his mind off his intolerable, yet somewhat loveable subordinates. She was usually happy to exchange sneaky glances with him. That could be some entertainment at least. _

(Note: This is a weird story for you all. It's almost more like separate stories all smushed together. Some take place in the past, some in the present. They alternate by chapter, so it shouldn't confuse. Here's a key - past is in Italics, present is not. This one is very heavy on OCs too. Enjoy.)


	2. Chapter 2

Blood: Chapter 2 – Coffee and air conditioning

'The threat of Meteor is still at the forefront of public concern. In an earlier interview with a community spokesman we learned that blame is largely on the Shinra Company for the event. Public support for the AVALANCHE group is growing rapidly within the city of Midgar. To see how the statistics measure up around the world, we go first to Anna in Junon. Anna-'

Evan switched the television off, reaching for the cafetiere standing beside it on the counter. "Hacks. Tabloid hacks, the lot of them."

Reno and Rude looked up from their card game, but said noting. Neither of them were in the mood to incur the wrath of Evan Reilly, playing verbal tennis with him not an attractive prospect right then. In truth, that was a wise decision, "What do they expect us to do?" Evan asked aloud, stirring an unhealthy amount of sugar into his coffee, "We're just people. Does working for the Shinra make you superhuman now or something? We're all just ordinary men and women, no more capable of getting rid of Meteor than anyone else."

"SOLDIER aren't normal." Reno announced suddenly, looking up from his cards and fixing Evan with a sincere stare, "They're a bunch of freaks." Rude nodded his agreement.

Evan said nothing, brushing his short brown hair behind his ears and leaning hard on the counter top. He looked round at Elena as she piped up, hiding on the sofa behind a fashion magazine as she was, "They can't stop Meteor."

"They can sure as hell summon." Evan's murmured remark did not register, Elena continuing,

"People think it's up to the whole Company to stop it, and that's bad for us." Rude nodded again, the memory of an unprovoked street attack springing to mind.

Once again, Evan remained silent. Talking was pointless, it could change nothing. Instead he stared into his coffee, watching the bubbles swirling in the middle of the cup. Elena was right. The people did expect Shinra to stop Meteor. They were supposed to wave a magic wand and make it go away, no problem, no repercussions, no effort. The world just didn't work like that. The Shinra were in a tight spot, truth be told. Do the impossible: stop Meteor. Failure to do so would not be tolerated. It almost sounded like an army recruitment poster.

He stood straight, rubbing the small of his back tenderly with one hand, thoughtfully fingering one lapel with the other. What could Shinra do, really? Kill Sephiroth? Destroy Meteor? How? Rufus and his immediate lackeys had something lined up, but what were the chances of it working?

'Don't be so fucking pessimistic.' He scolded himself mentally, 'The most we can do is stay optimistic and try. There's nothing else for it."

"Yo, Evan." Reno's voice snapped him out of it.

"Hmmmm?"

"Just asking, but what are you going to do when this is all over?" Strange question.

"The same things I always do. Why, are you thinking of leaving the Company?"

Reno shook his head, tilting his chair back to put his feet up on the table in front of him, knocking the cards and chips all over, much to Rude's annoyance. "Nah, just asking you something before you flew off to la la land for good. Can't lose your head right now." This caught Evan off guard. Since when had Reno cared about him? "We gotta stick together in times like this." The red head explained suddenly, prompting Evan to wonder if he was psychic. "Sure we're just following orders, that's all we ever do. But we all gotta support each other. Turks look out for their own." With that he lay his hand on the table and swiped all the chips to his chest. Rude looked suitably stunned, throwing his own cards down and folding his arms across his chest.

"Thank you for your concern, Reno, but my state of mind is no worry of yours." Picking up his coffee, Evan held it a moment, revelling in the warmth of it between his palms. The wreck room was surprisingly cold. Maybe it was Reno with his hot blood, turning the AC up on full again. He had said nothing about it, and Rude an Elena seemed oblivious to it also. Maybe it was just him. Could he be coming down with something other than acute stress? "See you all later." He left the room in a breeze of shivers and coffee steam.

Walking the short distance to his office, Evan felt strangely alone. He could see Meteor hanging over him through the windows, reminding him of his own mortality. As if he weren't aware of it already. He quickened his pace, taking long strides through the door and falling back against it to force it closed, spilling coffee on the polished floor. No wonder he felt lonely with that thing glaring down at him all hours of the day or night.

This was ridiculous. Straightening, he crossed to his desk and put his cup down beside a stack of progress reports. He had been playing this gig far too long to let something get to him, no matter how big or small it were. Thirty years was a long time to work in any business, and almost a record in this field. His legs protesting about the day's activity, Evan collapsed in his chair. Somebody should do something about that dammed rock soon. There had to be something someone could do.

He breathed a deep and tired sigh, crossing one leg over the other and twirling his chair to and fro. Once again he was alone in the office, his two colleagues out doing their own thing. That was just the way things were; though the three of them were a team, they very rarely worked together. They shared a strong sense of camaraderie, but that was as close as it got. Team in name only it seemed.

Their desks were deserted, the names 'Tessi McCarnon' and 'Rose Jennings' cast in gold the only real tie to their owners.

This whole thing was starting to get old. For years now he had followed the same routine - go to work, write up some progress reports, head off to military school, go home. Evan Reilly, Rose Jennings and Tessi McCarnon were teachers, affectionately known as the Senior Turks. They were charged with training the next generation of Shinra Turks for active duty. Quite a task, considering the nature of the work.

Presented with a list of hopefuls from all over, the three of them would choose two trainees each and pass on all they knew. Occasionally they would chop and change trainees with each other depending on what the youngsters chose to specialise in. For materia and general weaponry they were with him, Tessi taught martial arts and self-defence while Rose was the firearms master. Most sessions were a one to one thing, so there was little or no need for a second fully fledged Turk to be present. It should be a riveting job.

Really, Evan found himself bored. You only made it to Senior Turk if you were considered worthy. It was an honour to wear that black, button-up uniform. Yet it bored you to tears. You were in a position to impart knowledge onto those ready to listen and learn, but there was only so many times you could explain the technicalities of aiming a rifle allowing for kickback and windage before it got monotonous. Perhaps the most valuable benefit was that you would never see active service again - no more personal danger, you operated in complete secrecy and with total anonymity. That had been a great attraction at the time, but now it seemed like a small reward for an overly high price.

His thoughts were broken by the jangly Debut tone from his phone. It was a text message:

_'Can you relay a message to Rufus for me? It's done, but some trouble with publicity and minor repairs needed to non-Company equipment. Thanks. _

_Rose _

_XXXX' _

Done? Already? By God she was quick. When had he trained her to be so God dammed efficient? Evan shook away his initial surprise, downing his coffee and getting to his feet. Though Senior Turks never officially saw active duty, Rufus seemed to have started using them as his personal messengers. Or more specifically, Rose. Heidegger was unaware of this, though it was not beyond Evan or his subordinates to 'forget' certain information snippets. Rufus seemed to have a slippery memory also. Funny that.

Rufus' errand girl had breezed out of the office that morning, her explanation that Rufus had a job for her. That meant someone somewhere was a marked man. Talking was not Rose's strong point, it never had been. She let her guns do the talking, they were far more eloquent than she would ever be, crazy little cowgirl.

Evan switched on to the task at hand, picking up his phone and depositing it safely in his inside jacket pocket. Rufus must be in a board meeting if Rose had chosen to have the message relayed. It made sense not to disturb him while he was busy. Well, the day was almost done, and once he had done Rose this favour, there was somewhere he had to go. Somewhere Meteor did not exist.

(Note: First two chapters for you to look over. This is a weird one - I first wrote this back in school, so in about 2004, and it's undergoing a re-write because I really like it. Basically it is one massive exercise in original character creation, and testing out some ideas I had. The main one was that there had to be someone to train Turks while they were still in military school, so I came up with the senior Turks. Ah well, gimme a review and let me know what you think and what could do with improvements.)


	3. Chapter 3

Blood: Chapter 3

Costa sneaky step

_Negligent of the evening's unsavoury activities, Vincent found himself occupied with a stack of reports. He was unsure of the exact number, but he estimated it to be somewhere in the teens. They were all on boring, unimportant things, none of which would affect the way the department was run, but begged completion in the name of propriety. None of his colleagues would complete them without chasing, so the task fell to him, as always. What was the point in causing friction over something that would never get done anyway? _

_Vincent was faced with a choice; fill in reports or go upstairs and make an appearance at the annual Company ball. Reports were so much more agreeable. Quietness and solitude were two rare things in the office, and when they were thrown in front of you in a neat package, why forfeit them? _

_Sifting through a pile of patrol reports, he found a smile. Alone time was always welcome, and like gold dust. The others he worked with were so rowdy it was impossible to hear yourself think, let alone get a word in edgeways. So for once filing reports was a relaxing thing, Vincent slipping off one loafer and poking around under his desk with his toes in search of the radio. No complaints about his choice of station from friends and work mates would be a novelty. _

_Of course, good things never happened to Vincent Valentine, the door flying open to crash against the wall, his toes connecting with the heavy oak side of his desk in a fit of startled panic. Trey Henson leant in the doorway, looking somewhat unsteady with a bottle of something in his hand, Marlon J. Kennedy leaning on his back, giggling inanely. Vincent bit back his curses, wriggling in his chair to get his leg free and pull his foot up onto his lap to examine those poor battered toes. _

_Trey frowned, the look of pain on Vincent's face puzzling him momentarily. Then, like most things in Trey Henson's life, it was forgotten and he tumbled through the door, his long legs tangling in each other to send him over in a forward roll. He landed in a giggling heap against Marlon's desk, blinded by a shock of bright red hair in his eyes. Marlon burst out laughing, leaning hard against the door frame to avoid rolling over also and landing in Trey's lap. Vincent was not amused. _

_"I take it you are both enjoying yourselves upstairs." He said, shooting a glare from one man to the other. _

_Trey erupted suddenly, his bottle falling out of his hand with a clink and rolling off to halt under Marlon's foot. "I'm lovin' it!" He shrieked, looking up and spying the ceiling fan, "For the first time in weeks I can forget! AND get totally smashed!" _

_"It's a good life." Marlon announced, breaking from the door frame and carefully crossing to the leather sofa in the middle of the room where he proceeded to collapse on his back over the arm. _

_Vincent shook his head, stacking his reports tidily and laying them to one side of his desk, "There's more to life than getting drunk." He tutted, startled as Trey shot up from nowhere to slam his hands down on the desk and lean over him, _

_"That a fact?" _

_"Yes." _

_A challenge had been issued. "Name something." _

_"Hobbies." _

_"What if your hobby is getting drunk?" Trey denied Vincent a chance to answer that, turning away and leaping to grab hold of the ceiling fan and hang off the ground, "You have a kid. You'll understand me." At that point the fan broke and Trey landed on one high heel and snapped his ankle round. "Ah shit!" He exclaimed, hopping on his good foot and overbalancing to lean on the sofa back. _

_"If you don't sit down, you'll hurt yourself." _

_"It's a bit late for that!" Trey told Vincent in a hiss, clutching his ankle against the pain. _

_Marlon sat up, unsure what had just happened. Neither of his colleagues saw fit to fill him in, Vincent getting to his feet and wandering round his desk to assist his red-haired friend, Trey grimacing as he massaged his ankle. _

_"You should have seen this coming." _

_"Yeah, well we can't all be as perfect as you."_

_Trey's prickliness was ignored by Vincent, the dark-haired Turk supporting him to sit on the sofa. Mood swings like this were part and parcel of drunk Trey. Unfortunately he got more than a little confrontational in this condition. Best to ignore it. _

_Marlon got to his feet to give them some space, shaking his head in a vain attempt to get his mousy hair out of his eyes as he made for the kettle. Coffee was what he wanted, and felt he should force feed Trey. Vincent was going to run out of patience soon, and if there was one thing he didn't want to see, it was angry Vince. _

_Marlon James Kennedy had known Vincent Valentine a long time. They had both joined the Turks at the same time, and had worked together since. Vincent was his best friend, though he was unsure whether or not Vincent thought of him the same way. If he did, then that was just peachy. If not, then no matter. The two of them usually went on assignment together, so they were never starved of each other for long. That suited Marly J just fine. _

_He leant back against his desk, watching Vincent trying to wrestle Trey's snake skin cowboy boot off in order to examine his ankle. They each had their role as a team, Vincent's (beside sharpshooter of course) was to have a thorough knowledge of first aid. Trey was the down and dirty close quarters muscle, specialising in using his surroundings as his weapon, and himself? Expert in all things knives. Blades, big or small, Marlon knew how to handle them and he wouldn't hesitate to use them. Useless with a pistol, he could take a fly off a wall at forty paces with a knife. _

_Trey wailed something indecipherable, Vincent growling at him to 'stay still'. That red head was a handful. Apparently, Trey was the eldest son of a particularly rich family in Costa del Sol. Unfortunately for him, he stood to gain nothing from that standing as he was 'the one they didn't talk about', or that was the way he put it anyway. _

_After being tossed out of the family home, he had stowed away on a cargo ship to the Eastern Continent and made his way to Midgar. There he had got tangled up with a gang and not in a way that would be beneficial to him. They took a sharp dislike to him for reasons known only to himself, and attempted time and again to eliminate him. Not about to be eliminated, Trey took it upon himself to take the gang apart, member by member until he could start house-hunting in peace. News of his ruthless assault reached President Shinra, who at that time was looking for people with that particular mettle. So Trey was given a job as a Turk. _

_Then there was Vincent- _

_A sharp whistling sound caught Marlon's attention, looking round to see that the kettle had begun to sing. Some coffee would shut Trey up and give him something else to think about. He was still wailing in the background, obviously trying to get under Vincent's skin with his melodrama. When he had a tubigrip on his ankle, he would be dragged back upstairs and dumped safely in the ballroom with Heidegger. Marlon would then take a couple of cigarettes and find somewhere quiet to sit where he could think and fend off the headache which was threatening him from the far reaches of his brain. Vincent could come too, if he wanted, and was quite possible he would. _

_"There." Vincent sighed, tying a sock around Trey's ankle, "That wasn't so terrible, was it?" _

_Trey said nothing, glowering at his friend from under his messy red strands. Vincent rolled his eyes and slid off the sofa, walking briskly over to join Marlon and ask for a splash of milk in his coffee. Trey could do what he wanted, it was up to him. _

_At that moment Heidegger looked round the door, clearing his throat loudly. "Ah, you're all here. Good. I want you all upstairs now. I want to show you off to the shareholders." _

_"All due respect, Sir," Vincent shot back, scolding himself for his brusqueness, "I don't think either of my colleagues are in any fit state to be 'shown off'." _

_"You come up then. They can come once they are in a fit state." Heidegger glanced at Trey, smiling broadly to see him looking so annoyed, "It looks like Mr. Henson could get violent, and we can't have that, can we? Gya ha ha!" _

_With that, Heidegger left. Trey glared after him, folding his arms tightly across his chest to hold his words in, but failing, "I'll get violent on something all right, you lard-assed piece o'-" _

_"Straighten up, Marlon." Vincent instructed him, dusting down his own uniform. "Trey can join us when he has had sufficient coffee." _

_"Trey can join us when he's had suffi-something coffee." Trey mimicked Vincent in a whiny drawl, getting to his feet, stumbling over to Marlon's desk and picking up the coffee jar. "Spoon?" _

_Marlon handed him a tea spoon and watched, dumbstruck as he began to shovel dry coffee into his mouth. _

_"Let's leave him to it." Vincent murmured, already making for the door to get away from this display. For some unknown reason it made him sick. Marlon was in total agreement, taking a cigarette from his pocket as he went and lighting up. _

_Trey watched them go, waiting until the door was closed before slamming the coffee jar down on the table and letting loose a gleeful cackle. "Heh, heh, suckers! I get out of the Turk-whoring every year." Still cackling, he limped over to the sofa, flopped down and put his feet up, crossing his legs at the ankle, fished underneath the sofa for the mother and baby magazine he had stowed there and settled down to read. _

(Note: So, subjected to Trey Henson for the first time, and you survived. Congratulations. This one's specially for Mellish for giving me my first review and the encouragement I needed. I'm a little nervous about this one. Enjoy it and tell me what you think.)


	4. Chapter 4

Blood: Chapter 4

Rose

The road to Wallmarket was in a terrible state. Everybody knew that, just, nobody cared. It was considered part of the adventure in going to Wallmarket that you had to make it past the creatures that lived under the wrecked digger, or behind the torn up waves of road. Then, when you got where you were going you felt all the more fulfilled. What absolute rubbish!

Evan couldn't see why people came up with stupid reasons instead of doing something about their problems. Why, he remembered back when the road was freshly laid, when the loose chippings and smell of molten tar was still in the air. He had been a child then, racing alongside the steam roller with the other kids, calling for the driver to let them have a go. They never did get a go of course, but he did. His dad was driving the steamroller. That had been a long time ago, when Midgar was a series of towns, and this particular one had been called Hawthorn after the prickly, white flowering trees that grew everywhere. My God! He was getting old.

Then, that thought was going to come up, revisiting a place from his childhood as he was.

The playground had been the centre of his world at one point - the place you went before and after school to meet up with your 'gang'. All the kids hung around in gangs back then. None of the gangs had names beyond 'Jimmy's gang' or 'Letty's gang' and so on. He had been in Jimmy's gang, the one all the boys from Hawthorn were in. It was a big gang. They all hung out at the playground.

The place was so different to what it had been once. The swing set had been replaced, but the shed, and the slide and the climbing thing were all the same. The dust was new. Once there had been extensive lawns, dotted with daisies and intersected by flowerbeds with snap dragons and nasturtiums and roses. There used to be an azalea overhanging the chain link fence, and a bright blue gate with canal boat style flowers painted on it.

Now there was a gaping hole in the fence between the two dirty old stone gate posts. He had to smile though, despite the change in the place. Nothing could take away his memories. In his head he could still see the place it used to be.

A familiar creaking drew him to look round at the swing set, a smile touching him at the sight of the young lady there.

Rose Jennnings sat on the swing, going back and forth as though aiming to go over the crossbar. She would have looked like a child with her contented smile and her long black hair pulled up into pigtails, but for the dusty Shinra 3X motorcycle standing unsteadily beside the swing set. It had definitely seen better days, the gear selector hanging off, the head lamp broken with a large hole in the top. Just what had she been up to?

He leant harder on the unstable old gate post, studying her carefully. It was more than likely that she had been here for some time, quite happy to while away the minutes on the rusty old swing. She was a quiet one; it seemed to be an ongoing thing that she would only say something if that something was worthwhile. She reminded him a lot of someone he used to know in that respect, but there was no need to go into that right then.

Rose was shy, very shy. It was still a mystery to him how she managed to train recruits when she hardly spoke to them, but he was never one to question people's methods.

Evan jumped suddenly, part of the climbing thing falling away and hitting the ground with a dusty thump. He glanced over at Rose, sighing to see her smiling at him. Coughing lightly, he straightened his tie as though nothing had happened.

"In need of maintenance." Rose mused aloud, her old friend taking up the swing beside her, "A bit like you."

Evan winced, "I may be seasoned, Miss Jennings, but I'm not out of batteries yet." Rose said nothing, focusing her attentions on swinging higher. "What happened to your bike?"

"Special job." She replied , "My target panicked, thought fighting back was the best strategy. Put a bullet through the head lamp casing. Lucky for me it ricocheted off something inside else I'd have a pretty little hole in my neck."

Evan smirked, "If some crazy woman on a motorcycle came at me packing double hardware, I think I might panic too."

"You're scared of spiders, Evan."

"We're all afraid of something. I just happen to dislike hairy eight-legged somethings."

She tried to think of an answer, but nothing came to her. What was she supposed to say to that? She was afraid of somethings also; she could hardly speak for the 'all' side of the argument, could she? "My pistols need to visit the workshop too."

"Why? What happened to them?"

She shook her head, "I dropped one of them. It bounced off a car and ended up on the slip road somehow. The trigger's sticking."

"I see."

They swung in silence then, neither one willing to be the first to say something cheery. A sense of comfort was deemed inappropriate after such a conversation.

It was Rose that gave in first, "How're the preparations going?"

Evan took a deep breath, "Rufus is in an awful mood. Just be grateful that you're finished for the day."

"That good hmmmm?"

"Great mood. Never been happier in all the time I've known him."

He neglected to elaborate on why Rufus was in such a 'good' mood, choosing instead to see how long it would take his swing to stop if he allowed his feet to drag on the ground. Not long it seemed. "I don't think it's a good idea." Shaking his head, he explained, "Moving that chunk of metal all the way over here. Sephiroth doesn't play by the rules. He plays mind games, attacks your emotions. Unfortunately, he seems pretty resistant to the whole weapons thing so far. No one's been able to lay a finger on him."

"He messes with you." Rose murmured bitterly. "Take my word for it."

Evan offered no reply, digging absently at the dusty ground with the toe of one loafer. Eventually, he cleared his throat, "It's changed, hasn't it?"

Rose lifted her tired green eyes from the ground to gaze curiously across at her superior, "Evan?" He began to swing again, tilting his head back as though expecting to find the sky above him, closing his eyes to avoid disappointment as a quiet, somewhat eerie laugh escaped him,

"This playground. It's changed since I was a boy." Rose said nothing, swinging gently, staring at the ground once more. Evan continued, "Much of it is still the same. Though I do believe someone had put that gate back up not long ago. It's gone again now."

"It's so much dustier than I remember it."

Evan halted suddenly, allowing his eyes to roam the expanse of the playground, frowning at some things, shaking his head at others, "There used to be grass here back then, and flower beds. Lots and lots of flower beds." As he expected, Rose remained silent on the subject. The greenery had disappeared not long after she had been born he'd wager. It was impossible that she would remember it back then. "My mother used to come here with me everyday, after school. She used to bring her gardening gloves and tend the flower beds, and trim the edges around the lawns." Rose looked round to see that he was reminiscing, that 'in my day' look on his face. "She loved the flowers here. She used to tell me, 'a beautiful place for a beautiful boy.' I wonder how she would rephrase that, if she were around to talk to me now."

"We've all done things we're not proud of Evan." His subordinate informed him with a sigh, "Unfortunately, it's just part and parcel of our lifestyles."

"Lifestyle? There are two sides to every man, Rose, and I refuse to take my work persona home with me, though, it is difficult not to sometimes. I suppose that's half the reason I'm fifty five and sleep alone."

Rose swallowed her words. Asking after Emma would only cause Evan pain, and that woman had caused him enough of that. A new mantra on his part then? An interesting move if ever there was one made by Evan Reilly.

"Your day is over now, isn't it?" His voice snapped her out of her private thoughts, drawing her to look round at him a little too sharply, "No need to glare, it's just a question."

"I didn't mean it." She assured him, "I only had the one assignment today. There's no paperwork to speak of, so I have nothing else to do back at headquarters besides drop off my pistols."

He nodded, "And I have some things to finish up back there too. Shall we?" Rose stopped her swing, standing and moving back as Evan leapt off his own swing, taking a few steps to stop. Smiling inwardly at his sprightliness, she started over to her bike.

"Want a lift?" She asked, taking her helmet from the seat. The deep frown her friend set on her was confusing, "What?"

"There's only one helmet, and two of us."

Rose shrugged, "Yes, the helmet which, as designated driver for this trip I allocate to you. Now get over here and stop making excuses."

"I don't like this, Rose." Evan informed her bluntly, taking the helmet and strapping it on.

"I'll take it slowly." She assured him, throwing her leg over the bike and jabbing the starter.

Rose was true to her word, carefully weaving in and out of traffic along the highway. Evan clung on for dear life, his avoidance of the rail system more ridiculous than usual. He trusted Rose implicitly, he could never, and would never deny that fact, but when a passenger on an unstable motorcycle, the engine rattling every now and again, it was difficult to relax.

After several minutes, they arrived at the steps of the Shinra building. Reno leant casually against the wall, probably snatching a desperate cigarette break. The crunch of gears as Rose moved the bike into first forced the red head to grimace, but he waved his cigarette in a greeting anyway. "Shouldn't he be doing something else?" Rose queried, returning the wave.

Evan shrugged, pulling off his helmet, "I've been wondering that for years."

"You're in one piece right?" He nodded, holding out his hands for her pistols, "Good. Then, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

With that, Rose moved off, leaving Evan to watch her slip into traffic between two articulated lorries. He stared after her for some long minutes, realising suddenly that she had vanished down the slip road along with her eight-wheeled escorts, towards sector three. Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and started up the steps, smoothing his short, dark hair as he went.

"Ehhhh, Evan." Reno greeted him, biting the filter off his cigarette and flicking it away, "What the hell happened to her bike?" The old Turk neglected to answer, reaching out and snatching a hold of Reno's lapel as he passed,

"You come with me." He muttered, pushing the door open with his free hand.

"Where we going?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Blood: 5 _

_Knifepoint revolution_

_Trey was restless, practising every kick he knew on the concrete wall in front of him. Marlon watched him, absently picking at his nails with one of his knives. Vincent ignored him, checking over his quicksilver for what felt like the hundredth time. _

_The three of them were on assignment. Since Daniel's swan dive two weeks ago, Heidegger had been going through the Urban Development files. He had insisted, claiming it was the least he could do as Daniel's friend. _

_In the process he had discovered some very interesting things, namely that documents had gone missing. A little spying here and some ruthless torture there and the Turks had discovered that certain members of the department had been selling off the papers in question to a particular individual. _

_Daniel had chosen the number five warehouse on the partially completed sector two plate as his shop. Funnily enough, even after his death blueprints had gone missing. A tip off by one of Trey's associates told them that there was going to be a meeting there again. The exact time and date had also been given, so now the three Turks were waiting patiently to launch an ambush and put a stop to this unauthorised business. _

_Unfortunately, waiting was one of Trey's pet hates and he intended to make the biggest nuisance of himself he could in the time available. He had done his bit so far and set up the sinney camera. The President wanted to watch his Turks in action and get a look at his newest of enemies. _

"_Stand still, Trey." Vincent commanded him at last, allowing his arms to loll by his sides, tapping the muzzle of his pistol against his thigh, "You are annoying me." _

_The red head looked at him, frowning, "Well that's a damn shame for you." _

"_Stop it." _

_Although Vincent's pushing him around annoyed him, Trey did as he was told and stood straight, shoving his hands in his pockets and ruining the line of his uniform. "I wish these guys'd hurry up. There's only so much waiting a man can do before he shuts down." _

"_Your brain expiring, Trey?" Vincent asked him, swallowing his smirk before it became visible. _

"_Damn right." _

_Marlon remained silent, engrossed in picking his fingernails. He was bored also, but saw no point in aggravating Vincent. He snapped to attention, keys grating in the warehouse lock sending him and his colleagues behind a stack of metal crates. _

_Four men entered the building, three of them dressed in Military Police patrol uniforms, one wearing a sharp black suit and carrying a briefcase. Without a word, he set it down on a crate and flipped up the catches to begin rifling through the papers inside. _

_Vincent looked at Marlon and uttered the word 'amateurs', nodding towards the three men in uniform. _

_Trey watched them also, acknowledging that they must have attacked some MPs to get the uniforms, then setting eyes on the rifles they held. Those were the new GN4 range. They weren't supposed to be issued to troops yet. His eyes travelled down to the night-sticks at their belts. Extendable. Hmmmm. Military Police were given tonfas, extendable versions were Turk issue. Perhaps they were real MPs. "Somebody's been robbin' stores." He murmured, Vincent waving his hand at him to shut him up. Without another word, Trey reached over and turned the sinney camera on. _

_The odd man out finished going through the case, shutting it with a satisfied grunt. "It's all there." _

"_Of course." An MP answered him, "What did you take us for?" _

"_One can never be too careful in this day and age, Mr?" _

"_M. My associates are J and R." _

"_I see." _

_M shook his head, snatching the briefcase from the crate. "So let's discuss the fee." _

"_Daniel never said anything about money." _

"_That's because Daniel was a moron. He didn't need money. " _

_Vincent and Marlon looked at each other, neither one sure where this exchange was going. Daniel had accomplices in the forces? Clever. _

_The man in the suit, named Baske according to the briefing Heidegger had sent them, looked rather amused, holding out his hand for the briefcase, "All right. How much?" _

"_Twenty thousand for the blueprints, forty for the weapons." _

_Trey looked round at his two friends with raised eyebrows, "Weapons?" He whispered in surprise. Vincent nodded, adjusting his grip on his quicksilver. This whole thing had just got a lot more serious. _

"_All right." M handed the case back to Baske at that, taking his assault rifle in both hands once again. _

_Something was wrong, Vincent could feel it, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Good at talking he was not, but he could read men like books. Baske was up to something, that much was clear. The question was, what? _

"_Thank you for your time gentlemen. The cheque is in the mail." _

_M stepped forward, raising his rifle a little, "No you don't. We have an agreement." _

_Baske chuckled, neglecting to even look at M. "I assure you, Mr. M, verbal agreements aren't worth the paper they're printed on." H pressed a button on his belt, dashing behind a crate as ten heavily armed men kicked the door open. _

_Trey collapsed behind his crate, looking at his two friends with wide eyes. "How the hell we supposed to do this thing now?" _

"_We've handled worse." Vincent answered in a deadpan tone, checking his pistol once more for luck. _

"_Buena pena ." _

_The MPs were unsure what to do faced with so many enemies. They thanked their lucky stars when Vincent opened fire, taking out two of their adversaries with as many shots. _

_Trey leapt out from his hiding place, kicking one of the crates across the floor to knock down another two men. "Get the hell over here!" He yelled at M and friends, thumbing over his shoulder at the crates where Vincent and Marlon were. They obeyed without question, glad to see more Marlon, bringing the Turks up to three. _

"_What are you guys doing here?" M questioned Vincent, ducking down beside him. _

"_Talk to me again and I'll ensure it is the last thing you ever do." Vincent replied, picking off another two men. _

_There were four left now, Marlon taking care of them with some knives. Trey finished off his two victims with a knee to the nape of the neck. _

_He stood straight, brushing off his jacket. "That wasn't so hard." He bit his tongue hard, more men crashing through the windows upstairs and rushing forward to point their assault rifles at him. "Oh para el motivo del dios." _

_Trey wasted no more time, darting across the warehouse floor and leaping behind the crates. Vincent was waiting for him, "How many?" _

"_I dunno, twelve, thirteen max." _

_Marlon checked his knives, satisfied that he had brought enough. "What do we do, Vince?" _

"_Deal with it." That said, Vincent nodded to Trey, the red head taking the hint and leap-frogging the crates. _

_He ran, not particularly happy with the plan, calling back over his shoulder 'I have a kid y'know!' before diving into a forward roll behind the same crate as Baske. "Hello there." He greeted him with a diamond smile. _

_Baske said nothing, just looked back at him in surprise. Trey introduced himself, "Name's Trey, of the Turks." He thumbed at his uniform. "I think you have something that belongs to us Shinras." _

"_Fuck off." _

"_That's not very nice. You smoke?" Baske shook his head, "Didn't think so. Bye bye!" Trey was gone from there, racing across to the next handy crate and ducking down, only his flyaway tuft of red hair visible over the top, but enough to draw fire. _

"_You think it's very fair, Vince," Marlon found himself asking, "that Trey's always the bait?" _

_Vincent shook his head, "Of course. He's faster than the both of us put together." _

_Unaware of the two Turks lurking downstairs, the upstairs gunmen began jumping down onto the warehouse floor and advancing on Trey's position. Unable to deny himself a smile, Vincent knelt up and began firing on them. "Run Trey, run!" He called to his friend, straining to keep a laugh out of his voice. _

_Trey did as he was told, getting to his feet and bolting across the floor to the ladder and making a climb for it. He hid behind another pile of crates, holding his jacket closed against the thumping in his chest. Outraged, he stamped his boot on the floor, "Vincent! Tú cabeza muda muda!" _

"_Don't yell at me unless it is in a language we can all understand, Trey." The dark-haired Turk replied with a smirk, picking off five men in quick succession, Marlon kneeling up and killing four. _

"_Go to hell!" _

_Vincent shook his head, snatching M's rifle and tossing it to Marlon, "Present for you, Marlon." _

_Happy with his new toy, Marlon grinned, "I'm getting you something good this Christmas, Vince!" and opened fire, taking men down with inaccurate limb shots. _

_Vincent reloaded, booting M roughly in the shin to move him over. He had no love for snakes, and sharing his personal space with one under any circumstances was not welcome. _

_Trey found himself sharing his personal space also, a couple of brave men scaling the ladder after him. Not about to get 'nailed', the speedy red head leapt to his feet and threw himself into a handless cartwheel, booting two of them in the chin. He hit the ground, sweeping their legs out from under them and jumping to his feet, ripping his jacket open and sliding out of it to swing it round in front of himself and draw fire from the remaining man. More than a little angry, Trey turned a twirl with his jacket, snatching his combat knife from his thigh in the process and diving into a forward roll to come up behind his last victim and bury the blade in the back of the man's ribs, giving it a twist for good measure. _

_Snorting, he kicked him away, throwing his jacket back on and peering over the guard rail to see that Marlon was on the floor, having abandoned his assault rifle in favour of his little knives. Vincent was covering him from the crates and he was using that to the full, moving like a hurricane through the remaining men. _

_Between the two of them, they were soon all alone with the three traitorous MPs. Trey slid down the ladder, fishing in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes. Vincent stood beside the crates, Marlon sitting on one and indulging in a cigarette of his own. "All cleaned out." Trey remarked, lighting his cigarette off Marlon's and taking up a seat beside him. _

"_That was unexpected." Vincent murmured, keeping an eye on their prisoners. "It seems we don't know everything about our friend." _

"_You thinking he's with the so-called 'rebels'?" _

"_Possibly." _

_M and his friends remained quiet, their initial relief at seeing the Turks faded away in favour of utter dread. Vincent, Marlon and Trey would only be there for one reason, and that was to take them in. _

"_Uh, Vince." He looked round at Marlon's voice, frowning to see his friend pointing at the warehouse doors, standing ajar. "I think we forgot something." _

_The hairs on the back of his neck prickling again, Vincent chased across the warehouse to the crates where Baske had been hiding. There was no one there. Vincent froze, icy fingers running up and down his spine. He was in charge of this mission, he would be held responsible. "Shit." He cursed under his breath, glancing back at his two colleagues. They both stared back at him, waiting for orders. They couldn't very well sit there all night, "We'll get these three back to Headquarters, then we'll see about chasing down Baske." _

_Marlon and Trey nodded in unison, standing and saluting Vincent before turning on their captives. Neither of them would change places with their friend right then. This was a serious assignment, and they had blown it. Unfortunately it would be Vincent that shouldered the blame. _

_Vincent shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. How was he going to explain this one? _

(Note: Here we go, Vinny's in trouble. A lot of Spanish in this one, which is the language I'm using as Costa – what I imagine to be the language of Costa del Sol. It might not be perfect because I got it off Google translator, which is better than nothing. If you're wondering, Trey calls Vincent a dumb dumb head of all things. He comes up with the best insults.

I'm going on holiday for three weeks to Montenegro soon, so I thought I would put up a couple chapters in one go as some substance in my absence. Take care!)


	6. Chapter 6

Blood: 6

Drowning

Rose relaxed, staring up at the condensation-spotted tiles of her bathroom ceiling. The gentle lapping of the bathwater against her sides was bliss. Nothing mattered right then – not her job, not her fiancée, the dog hair on her new carpet, nothing. Stretching one long leg up towards the air vent on the wall, she breathed a deep sigh. A long, hot bath had been her sole dream for the past few hours, and now that she had it, her mind desired nothing.

The mist-drenched silence was heavenly, the thick nothingness occasionally sliced through by the gentle drip, drip of the hot water tap. She had a mind to stay there forever, forgetting that the water would get cold and force her to leave by necessity. There was still time to enjoy her bath she told herself, taking a deep breath and sliding under the warm water. The warm caress of the water on her skin brought welcome relief from daily stress, enticing her to give in to a sweet surrender and just fall asleep where she was-

Her train of thought was cut off dead by the sudden feeling of hands around her neck, forcing her head down against the bottom of the bathtub. She struggled, her hands searching for a grip on something, anything that could bring back her wonderful quiet. Her conscious thought fought through her fear, forcing home the realisation that she was fast running out of air. One of those hands was on her face now, forcing her cheek down against the warm enamel.

Calming her frightened mind to an extent, Rose realised that she would die if she did not fight back. Impulsively she struck out with one leg, finding nothing but the crack of her heel against the hot tap. Gasping in pain, she coughed, watching in despair as the last of her air floated to the surface in a bubble. Her mystery attacker said nothing, his job nearly done as her desperate struggling began to subside.

Rose still fought for air, finding none in the suffocating surround of her relaxing bath water. Terrified, she felt around, her hand finding the fabric of her murderer's shirt, twisting her fingers up in it and attempting to pull herself out. The hand moved from her face then, to her own hand, trying gently to untangle her long fingers. The gentleness of the touch…. Did this person know her? Rage rose inside of her at that thought, driving her free hand up out of the water to the enamel shelf behind her, fingers searching frantically for an object of assistance. Flinching suddenly as her fingers came into contact with something sharp, Rose bit her tongue, closing her hand around the painful object and slashing it down her attacker's wrist. The hand moved from her neck, Rose taking advantage of this freedom and pulling herself up out of the water.

Choking for breath, she snatched her attacker's wrist and drew the razor blade up it, discarding her weapon and thrusting his wrist down into the warm, soapy water and holding it there with one hand and one foot. In a panic, he gripped the side of the bath, bracing himself against it to pull his wrist out before he bled to death. Rose would not allow that, grabbing his uninjured wrist and wrenching his arm around behind his head to hold it there. She said nothing as she stood there, still purging all the water she could from her lungs. The would-be murderer said nothing either, still concentrating on trying to get his wrist out of the water.

She did know him. They had spent many an evening together with Leroy, her fiancé. His name was Alex, and he was a college friend of Leroy's. After several excruciating minutes, Alex fell to his knees, hitting his head on the side of the bathtub. Rose released his wrist then, stepping out of the bath and slowly reaching for the wall. Her mind turned somersaults as she struggled to work out why someone she knew would want her dead. Reaching for a towel, she pressed it to her cold body as a shield against the terror of what had just happened.

She had nearly been murdered in her own home, the one place where she was supposed to be safe. Dropping the towel, she snatched the razor from the floor tiles; Pulled Alex's head back and drew the blade across his neck. She would never find out why from him now, but that was no bother. She snapped out of it, grabbing the towel and rubbing feverishly at the blood on her arms and legs. This task complete, she collapsed against the door, sliding down to sit, rubbing her arms against the chill of memory. Nestling her head between her arms, she sobbed quietly to herself. This had been too much….

"So it's done then?" Leroy queried, hearing the bathroom door close. The lack of an answer was no worry to him. It was just an assumption, but his associate was probably a bit out of sorts after what he had just done. "Put up a fight? Actually, don't tell me. I don't really want to know." Silence. "Not worth worrying about." He murmured dismissively, picking up the remote and changing the T.V channel. A laminated Shinra ID card landed on the coffee table in front of him. Wrinkling his nose in distaste at the wet blood splashed across the shiny plastic surface, he picked it up between two fingers and examined it carefully.

"Manufacturing department in administrative research? She was a Turk?" This was a surprise. He had always thought that she was a secretary. The dull clicking behind froze his blood.

"Is." Rose muttered bitterly. Leroy turned in his chair, the blood draining from his face to see her there. Rose stared back at him, her green eyes narrowed threateningly on his own brown eyes, clutching a towel to her chest.

"Rose."

"Why do you want me dead Leroy?" She asked, rose-engraved peacemaker trained on his head.

"It was nothing personal, Rose. I just…. Felt trapped."

"Most people just break it off."

He made no answer, lowering his eyes away from her to read the numbers on the television remote. "You're a weak excuse for a human being, Leroy." She murmured, "I suppose you're too much of a chicken to just say it to my face. It's not a long sentence really. 'It's over'. Would that have hurt you so much?" Still no answer. "I should have been waiting for this."

"Where's Alex?"

"Bleeding his all on my bathroom floor. Guess what I'm going to be doing tonight."

"Cleaning?" She smiled, giving a small nod,

"Sharp cookie." Throwing a glance at the door, "Now get out before you join him."

Leroy did not need to be told twice, springing out of his chair and throwing the front door open. "If you want your stuff then you're welcome to go through the incinerator on Monday." With that, she kicked the door shut and crossed the room back to Leroy's favourite chair. Nobody but him was allowed to sit in that chair, so Rose dropped her peacemaker on the sofa and collapsed in the chair, throwing one leg over the arm and staring up at the ceiling. She should have been sad. Four years together, and now she was all on her own, in her apartment, while poor Leroy had no place to call home. Maybe she should cry for him? But what was the point when tears could be much more useful hydrating your body?

She looked down, feeling something cold and wet on her arm. Muffin stood there, wagging his golden retriever tail, holding one of Leroy's shoes in his mouth. "How sweet." Rose smiled, taking the patent leather shoe from her dog, "It's one of his good ones too." Turning it over and over in her hand, she was suddenly overcome by a feeling of great generosity, "You're the man of the house now, Muffin, and the man of the house should have a good pair of shoes, so here you go." And handed it back to him.

The already happy dog was overjoyed with his present, sliding his big paws across the carpet to lie down and start loving his new toy with his teeth. Rose watched him a little while, smiling to see that he was so happy. Leroy had always disliked Muffin. Mainly because his efforts in teaching the dog to fetch his slippers had taken a U turn and always ended up with Muffin taking the slippers away again.

She did have to hope that Reno would decide against bringing her a commiserations basket. Evan still had the one Reno had given him, and the contents were colourful to say the least. The old Turk had considered re-addressing it for the Shinra narcotics lab, but realised that it was a sweet gesture from the red head after all. So here she was with her mind back on work again. She had a bad day ahead of her tomorrow, and one of her pistols was in the shop. That meant resorting to the heavier, less versatile Outsider, sitting quietly on top of her wardrobe. Though it was more powerful, she preferred her custom peacemakers. They gave some much-desired class to their tasks, and were a nice reminder of someone she once loved very much,

'I may be your superior, but that doesn't change the fact that we're friends, and…. Other things. Nothing can change that.'

Rose shook her head clear. She missed him, so very much. There were other things to be considered now, like what she was going to have for dinner, and when she was going to get around to glycerinating her hip holster. Muffin would need his dinner too. One shoe was not nearly enough for an active dog. Though he may make short work of the other one…. She ought to get a move on and get things done. Then she could collapse for the evening.

(Note: Not very long, and quite fast, but you get the idea, right? Leroy's a nasty piece of work, and yes, his reason is weak, but don't you get the feeling he's not telling the whole truth? He was originally a nice guy, and the two of them stayed together, but my boyfriend read it and took an instant dislike to him, so I switched things around a little for him and found it worked better this way. Such is life.)


	7. Chapter 7

_Blood:7 _

_So long Trey_

"_That's why, I wanna say thanks to this here moron!" Marlon chose not to say anything to Trey's announcement, standing still while his friend pulled his cheeks and giggled inanely. _

_The red head stood on the Turk's table in the employee lounge, rocking back and forth on his snake skin heels, barely hanging onto balance._

_After many years of loyal, somewhat colourful service, Trey Henson was retiring. His last day had just come to an end, and now, at eight PM, he bid farewell to all those he knew and in most cases loved. _

_As token, he was drunk, but somehow still impeccably tidy. _

_The President was unsure about this display, but thought he should let it slide. He had set aside a time slot in his schedule to say good bye to Trey. After several loyal years with the Company, the red head deserved some kind of accolade. In this instance it was to be the second Turk in history to have a plaque put up on the 'Wall Of Shame' as it had come to be known. _

_It wasn't at all what it sounded like – one wall in the employee lounge set aside for the Turks. When a Turk was killed or went missing in action, their photograph was put up on the wall, along with a simple gold plaque engraved with their name and a quote. Retired Turks didn't get a photograph, just a plaque and a quote. That was what to aim for. _

_So far there were two photographs and one solitary plaque. The photos belonged to Irish and Michael Kehller, former head of department, killed in action. The plaque belonged to Ash law, AKA Raffles. He had retired some years ago and was now living out his days in Mideel. At seventy years old, he was doing well. The quote on his plaque read 'Why Raffles?' _

_Vincent shook his head, sitting at the table nearest to the stairs. He was avoiding the President. Though nothing had been said about his failure, Vincent was well aware of President Shinra's feelings on the subject (though he had enjoyed watching the sinney film of the warehouse tussle). It would be wise to stay out of his way until the target had been tracked down and neutralised. Kehller would never have let this happen. _

_He shook his head again at that thought, freezing as a tiny hand snatched hold of his fringe. The little red-headed boy sitting beside him had been uncharacteristically quiet until now. He grinned up at Vincent, showing a few tiny teeth against a backdrop of pink gums. _

_With a scowl, Vincent untangled the boy's fingers from his hair and turned in his seat to face him. "I know where your tomfoolery leads, I am not going to be a part of it today, Reno." _

_A little put out, Reno slapped the bench between his stumpy legs and huffed. He didn't know much about the world, but one thing he did know, was exactly what Vincent was, "Boring." _

"_Excuse me?" Vincent was stunned. Had he heard what he thought he had heard? _

_Reno repeated himself for good measure, "Boring!" _

_The little red head frowned as hard as he could, letting Vincent know exactly what he thought of him and his refusal to participate in his game. He forgot all about him suddenly and clapped his hands, spying Trey standing on the table. "Trey!" He called happily, winning a nod from his father. _

_Vincent sighed, bending one arm on the table behind and leaning on it. Things would not be the same without Trey. Admittedly it would mean seeing less of Reno, and that would mean less near-unexplainable pyres in the office, but he could put up with a small amount of fires if it meant spending time with Trey. Funny, but the spider-like red head was the first Turk he had ever met, back on that day when he was a small town boy unnerved by the big city. God, that had been an experience. _

_He snapped out of it, somewhat alarmed to find Reno crawling into his lap. To his surprise, the little boy just plonked himself down on his backside and resumed his vigil over Trey. He looked up at Vincent with a smile, "Trey funny." He sang, glad to see his moody friend return the smile. _

"_Yes, I suppose that's what you could call him." Of course Reno didn't understand, grinning like a fool and turning his eyes back to the crowd. Vincent chuckled, ruffling his hair roughly and glancing back over his shoulder at the stairway. _

_Dr. Hojo was standing there with Professors Gast and Crescent. The two men watched Trey, Gast smiling all the while, Hojo frowning. Lucrecia looked straight back at him with a smile, no, not at him. She was watching Reno. She shook her head looking up to meet Vincent's gaze. She flashed him a sweet smile, called to attention by Hojo suddenly as he murmured something to her. She agreed with whatever it was, nodding her head thoughtfully. She clearly disagreed with his next comment, shaking her head and pointing at Reno. _

_Vincent looked away then, not wanting to seem so interested in their conversation. That would be bad manners. Still, if he was to be spending a year or so in close quarters up a Nibelheim, then perhaps he should get to know them. No, that was not something he wanted to do. If he had to get to know any of them then it would be the one he was assigned to. _

_That was it, his punishment for failing so miserably. He was to accompany the Science department to Nibelheim for the Jenova project. As if that wasn't punishment enough, he had been assigned as bodyguard to one of the scientists. Which one he had no idea yet, but if the President had been meaning to rub salt into already gaping wounds, then he had succeeded. After nine years working for the Company and an up until now stainless service record, he had been relegated to guard duty, the first assignment allocated to new Turks. That was adding insult to injury on a massive scale. _

_He exhaled sharply, getting rid of all those pent up emotions before they sent him into a rage. It as no good to go raging on Trey's last day. Though he probably didn't want it, the man deserved a peaceful send off. The others would be going off to Goblin's bar with him afterwards to get rat-arsed and disorderly. That was not for Vincent Valentine. He had thinking to do, and a lot of it. He would go home, close the blinds and sit there while events sorted themselves out in his head. _

"_Hello, Vincent." He looked up sharply to find Professor Gast peering back at him through thick spectacles. _

"_Uh..." He scolded himself, clearing his throat before continuing, "Good evening, Professor Gast." _

"_Trey Henson's last day today, isn't it?" Vincent nodded dumbly. Gast politely ignored his awkwardness, taking a seat beside him and leaning back against the table in a leisurely fashion. "I hear you're going to be accompanying us to Nibelheim." _

"_That is correct, Sir." _

"_Good. It's reassuring to know that our staff will be in capable hands." _

_'Hardly.' Vincent thought to himself, bouncing his knee and unintentionally Reno too, 'This is my punishment.' He looked up at the ceiling, well aware that Hojo and Lucrecia were talking about him from the snippets of conversation he caught. "I will do all that I can to complete my assignment." _

_Gast laughed rather loudly, drawing the attention of some of Trey's crowd, "Come now, would it kill you to show a little emotion?" _

_Vincent neglected to answer, picking Reno up under his skinny arms and sitting him squarely on the bench between himself and the Professor. Gast looked at Reno thoughtfully a moment, pushing his spectacles up further up onto his nose. "The family resemblance is remarkable, wouldn't you say? Who is his mother?" _

"_Trey has never told me." The Turk lied. Trey had told him, and been quite tearful about it. What he had said had been said in confidence; Vincent was not at liberty to discuss it. _

"_I would be interested to find out. Most of my current work is around genetics. How old is he?" _

"_One year, two months." Trey had drummed that into his co workers, proud of how quickly Reno had picked up words, though he only knew some, choice ones. _

"_Trey funny." Reno told Gast, pointing at his father across the room. _

"_Yes, he is very funny." Everything about the child intrigued Gast. He had very good enunciation for such a young child. "You're a very smart boy. Can you say Gast?" Reno shook his head, clapping his hands and jiggling his legs against the bench. _

"_He likes fire." Vincent intoned almost unconsciously. Gast took immediate interest, _

"_Really?" _

"_Yes. He likes making it in Trey's 'in' tray." _

"_Fascinating." _

_Reno laughed, looking up at Gast with a broad smile, "Cogida wormy." He said with a look of sheer pride. Vincent was shocked, opening his mouth to say something, but no words getting out. Gast obviously didn't understand, smiling at the little child as though he had made the discovery of the century. _

"_That was Costa, wasn't it?" Vincent nodded, dreading Gast asking what had just been said to him. "Trey must speak to him in Costa." _

"_Rather a lot, yes." _

"_Monkey see, monkey do, or in this case hear and repeat." _

"_Yes." _

_Reno adored such attention, carefully getting to his feet and toddling up onto Gast's lap to take his spectacles and put them on his own head. "No, no," the Professor corrected him, taking the glasses, "These go on your nose." Reno gave a high-pitched snarl, taking them and putting them back on his head. "Decisive little tyke, isn't he?" _

"_Tyke is the perfect choice of word." _

"_Vinny" Reno said, toddling back to Vincent and plonking himself on the Turk's lap. _

"_I can't get rid of you." Vincent muttered, placing one hand on Reno's tiny shoulder to steady him. _

_He had been spending a lot of time with Reno lately, Trey forced to bring him in to work as the crèche refused to take him. Apparently Reno did not get on with other children; had a habit of hurling things at them. Trey knew all about the throwing arm, having been hit by various objects a lot over the past year. When Reno had first arrived, Trey had hated him, and because of that, Reno hated Trey also. He would throw anything that was light enough to pick up at him, especially things with pointy corners Trey had forgotten to put out of reach. He was a calculating little sod, that was the only way to describe him. _

_Vincent shook his head, looking over to see that Trey had come down from his table and was now throwing unceremonious hugs at anyone he could get his hands on. _

_The red head grinned like a moron, completely out of his skull and halfway to la la land. He slapped Morris Taran's hand, leaping on the Senior Turk and hugging him loosely, almost falling off him, "Morris, you are THE man. There's no other man like you in this WHOLE world. Peace to you and your whole family my man-friend." _

_Morris smiled, patting him gently on the back, "You go have a good life, Trey." _

_Evan was next, Trey turning on him, looking down on his 5'7 from his 6'4. "Evan, little Evan, you are a star in man's skin. I love you." He grabbed Evan's head and kissed him on the forehead, "Don't go thinking I want to go further. I don't want sex from you." _

"_Nice to know, Trey." Evan told him with a nervous chuckle, wiping the slobber away with his black suit sleeve. _

_Finally Trey turned to Shawn Richards, looking up at him, his expression twisting into what could only be described as a grimace, "You! You on the other hand, are chicken shit. You were born chicken shit, you are chicken shit and I'll be God dammed if you don't die chicken shit, ya disgusting piece of mu crap." _

"_Henson!" Richards snarled, Trey giving him the finger, _

"_Ahh fuck off and rot." Not done being derogatory, the red-headed Turk pointed at Hojo across the room, "You freak me out." and left it at that, turning to the President. "And as for you mi capitán. Éste es Trey Henson de los turcos, registrando hacia fuera por la vez última ." With that, he clicked his heels together and gave a snappy salute. _

_The President smiled and nodded respectfully. "We're going to miss you here, Mr. Henson," _

_Heidegger extended his free hand to Trey, the other in a sling across his chest. Trey frowned, folding it across his chest with his injured one, "Look, man, I thought you woulda learned your lesson or something." _

_Vincent cringed at Trey's bear-baiting. It was his fault that Heidegger's arm was in a sling anyway. Earlier on that day, Heidegger had been walking up the stairs to the Turk's office, Trey had been walking down when the two had met in the middle. Heidegger had laughed, saying 'It's your last day today, isn't it Henson? You WILL be missed.' Trey had replied with 'Heh heh, yeah.' and punched him down the stairs. _

_Vincent had found Heidegger lying there at the foot of the stairs, looking up at Trey in disbelief, ''You punched me down the stairs.' _

_'Heh heh heh I'll do it again if you don't shut up.' Trey had told him, and stepped over him on his way to the john. Bad medicine for the red head. Heidegger was notorious for holding grudges. _

"_Vinny! Dear, sweet Vinny." Trey was standing over him suddenly, his arms outstretched, "You deserve the biggest hug of all, robo kid!" _

_Vincent had no choice, Trey snatching him up into a hug, the dark-haired Turk clinging onto Reno for fear of dropping him. "Trey." He said, his stern voice muffled, lost in Trey's mended jacket. _

"_Ah, God we had a great working relationship, didn't we? From the first time I introduced myself, to the first time you ground my face into the floor to this minute right now where I'm choking you to death in my clothes. I'm gonna miss you and Marly J. most of all." He let Vincent go then, taking Reno off him and hugging his child close to his chest, "But I gotta look after this little trouble, eh Cogida wormy?" _

"_You really can be vulgar sometimes, Trey." Vincent's disgust was clear, but Trey let it go, rubbing his own nose against Reno's. _

"_Ah, think what you want of me. I'm gonna go get stewed." _

_Then, Trey turned on one snake-skin cowboy booted heel and walked out of the employee lounge, halting just inside the stairwell and shouting, "Adios!" Before vanishing from the Shinra building for the last time. _

_It was the end of an era. _

(Note:So there we have it. No more Trey the Turk. Wait 'til you find out what he's doing for money instead. What did Reno call Gast? Well, as far as I know, a 'wormy fuck'. 'Scuse the language. I was thinking of bumping the rating up a notch because of it, and the violence, but tell me what you guys think. Little Reno, he is possibly the cutest thing ever. I very rarely squee, but if I was going to, this would be it. And Shawn Richards, ugh. You have met him for the first time, and I assure you it won't be the last.)


	8. Chapter 8

Blood: 8

Ice cream?

A break-up? That thought still felt alien to Evan as he climbed the stairs to the Company cafeteria. Rose and Leroy had never been Midgar's sweethearts, but something had to be said for the five years they had been together. That was a long time for a rebound relationship. Everybody knew where Rose's heart lay. Shaking his head, Evan found an unintentional smile settling on his face and refusing to be wiped away. After all these years that idiot still had her love, and he had wasted his opportunity. Tseng has been injured some days ago, during an expedition to the temple of the Ancients. Funnily enough he had shared the same fate as many of his people; skewered on the end of Sephiroth's Masamune. There was little to be said about that incident to Rose. She was a Turk, and a Senior Turk at that. Rules must be obeyed, and a strict code of conduct adherred to. Her feelings in the privacy of her own home had remained private.She was a Turk, and a Senior Turk at that. Rules must be obeyed, and a strict code of conduct adhered to. Her feelings in the privacy of her own home had remained private.

It was true that she hadn't been the same since, her demeanour very much that of someone who had suffered a loss, but of a colleague, and not a dear lover.

As always, the cafeteria was at its busiest around 1pm, the managers congregating in several small herds at the corner tables, away from the windows and the possibility of catching air, clean, dity or otherwise. They shied away from nature in any shape or form during their time in the building. Evan found himself thinking on this, the idea bringing a smile to his face. The outside world was far removed from the cosy environment created specially for them within the warm walls of Shinra HQ, Midgar. Why go outside when you were made to feel indispensible inside? Unfortunately for them, feeling and being were two very different things. Managers came and went like yesterday's news - unbelievably important at the time, but easily forgotten by the next day. There had been quite a few redundancies recently, the current herds made up of mostly new faces, none of which had yet learnt that challenging Tessi McCarnon to a game of cards was a bad idea with a capital B. Until you understood the full extent of that boy's cheating, you would never win against him. Experience taught well.

Finding a small grin at the idea of hard learned lessons, Evan turned his attentions on the other employees dotted about the room. Most of the window tables were empty, the small number reserved for adventurous executives almost devoid of life. Reeve sat alone, the only one lacking the pride to eat lunch alone in his office, happy to exchange pleasantries with more friendly members of President Shinra's corporate family. Feeling Reeve's eyes on him, Evan gave a polite nod, thinking better of such a sterile acknowledgement and flashing a breif, yet warm smile. He had always liked Reeve, and the man deserved credit for all the time he spent in close quarters with Scarlet and that boob Heidegger. Backstabbius muchious and pompousity dimwhitticun. The thought of them slapped a distasteful frown squarely on Evan's face, leaving Reeve with a puzzled, almost hurt look. A quick apologetic smile, and wrongs were righted, leaving the urban development head piece of mind enough to finish his salad sandwich.

Members of the typing pool occupied many of the centre tables, staying away from the two standing side by side in the middle of the room under the biggest of the four strip lights. Though there was no official rule, it was Company lore that only Turks sat at these tables. Any lesser employee would find themselves roughly ejected by the first Turk to see them, and at worst find themselves missing a few days. It was difficult to believe people could take such offense to something so small, but many of his colleagues would not stand for a breach of this unwritten rule. Though they surrounded these sacred tables, the various secretaries, copy room girls and typists seemed happy enough gossiping and chattering about people and things unknown. The copy room girls were a strange breed. None of them feared the Turks. Ninety per cent of the copy room employees being women of a variety of different ages meant that they were unlikely to fear Reno. There were very few women in the building that feared Reno, the reasons well known as they were. Each and every Turk had been given a nickname that circulated within the typing pool. Reno had been christened Casanova, for want of a better name. He himself had been given the name Teddy boy. Why, Evan was unsure. He did find possibility in his being the only Turk old enough to remember the Teddy boy period, in which terrible suit jackets and awful bouffant hairstyles were in fashion. Luckily, he had only succumbed to peer given madness for a few short years, before learning the error of his ways and receiving a letter from Shinra Works informing him of his success as an applicant for the Turks. My that had been some years ago now.

Turning away from them before a chuckle could break his sombre expression, he found himself meeting a familiar pair of brown eyes. Though they hid behind opaque shades, Evan knew that Rude had met his gaze. There was something in the way the bald Turk stood that gave him the feeling of curious eyes staring straight back into his own. If not meeting his gaze, Rude was certainly looking at him, clicking his heels together and saluting as he did indication enough of that fact. Mouthing the words 'at ease', Evan switched his gaze to Rude's companion, a gangly creature sprawled untidily against the wall.

Nobody knew quite what to do with Reno anymore. His superiors had tried everything; disciplinary action, threats, removing cafeteria priviliges. Even redundancy. Reno would not smarten up. He had been given the boot as a means of whipping him into shape, Heidegger's intention to reinstate him after several weeks, give him some thinking time. Unfortunately, Reno had been too persistent, coming into work every day as though everything was normal, sitting in the Turk's office waiting for an assignment. In the end Heidegger had just given him his job back on the President's order. Clearly the red head would not stay away, the only sure method of keeping him from returning to work to kill him, but why lose a good Turk unnecessarily? Now his slobbiness was thought of as individuality. It had become a fact of life that Reno was too valuable to lose.

So Evan found himself frowning, watching in resignation his old trainee leaning against the wall, one spindly leg straight, the other bent at the knee, foot flat against the wall behind, a cigarette between his unhealthily yellow lips, the 'NO SMOKING' sign bolted above his head of no consequence. What was the point in trying? Sighing in defeat, the old Turk turned away, intent on settling at his own table.

Despite the notion that he was 'getting on a bit' flashing around the building like lightning, Evan was as sharp as the day he had joined the Turks. Perhaps even more so, years of experience fuelling his soft eye. He caught things other people would miss; noticed the most minute detail that would escape others. One of these happened to be Rose, sitting silently at the right hand centre table, the froth on her cappucino melting away with every passing minute she ignored it. Halting in his tracks, Evan found himself watching her, safe in the knowledge that she had not yet noticed him, else she would be watching him like a hawk. It was clear that something was on her mind, though he doubted it was Leroy Jenkins. The man was a pig, she knew that, just as she knew that he had been finding service elsewhere in regards to his sex life. 'Playing away' was wrong. The term itself grated on Evan's mind. Playing was such a harmless term. Applying it to something so dishonourable felt so wrong.

For a moment he hesitated, unsure whether or not he should intrude on her solitude. Rose often sat alone when troubled, and did not take kindly to interruption. Shaking that thought away, Evan took a step forward, jumping back suddenly as he almost collided with Elena. "Sorry Mr. Reilly, Sir." She apologised, not even stopping to speak to him face to face. She was in a state, her little and ring fingers bandaged together on her right hand, her bright blue right eye sporting a black shiner. According to two MPs, she had tried to avenge Tseng's 'death' when she met Cloud up at Icicle Inn. Unfortunately the story made her a figure of fun with her unintentional 'trip' down the hill into a snowcobo. Reno had chosen to keep Tseng's survival quiet in regards to her, convinced it would make her a better Turk. Well, if anything could...

To his surprise and horror, she slammed a plastic tub down on the table in front of Rose, startling the poor woman out of her private thoughts and back into reality. Elena hastily took a seat, leaning on the tub and lowering her voice to what she believed to be a demure mutter, "I heard about your break-up." She informed Rose matter of factly, "I thought you might need some cheering up, so I came armed." Not waiting for a reply, or at least to see Rose's expression, she fished in her pocket and produced two silver spoons, slapping them down on the table.

Rose stared, no words coming to her that could possibly express her feelings. What could she say? Elena had said her piece obviously, ripping the lid off the tub and delving her spoon into the soft caramel choc chip ice cream inside, relishing the taste with a sigh. What did Elena want her to do? Drown her non-existent sorrows in a two litre tub of frozen milk? Bemused as she was, and trasnfixed on Elena's speedy demolishing of the ice cream she was oblivious to the looks of horror shot back and forth across the room.

Every manager worth his salt and weight in Company experience stared at Elena, none of them daring to speak. Evan could not close his mouth, his jaw agape as he looked round at Rude and Reno, the former covering his eyes (though his shades were still on), the latter wide-eyed and obviously fearful of Rose's pending reaction. Though she had trained her, Rose had never considered Elena to be her friend. She remained detatched from her trainees, not wasting her faith on their prolonged survival. What was the dizzy blonde thinking? Evan, Reno and Rude had known Rose longer than anyone else in the Company, so were all waiting on her explosive outburst. Her actions shocked them all.

Taking a deep and calming breath, Rose clasped her hands, knitting her fingers together and pressing her palms flat on the tabletop in front of her, leaning just enough weight on them to cause an aching pain in her knuckles, partly occupying her mind as she began to speak, "Thank you for your concern, Elena, but I assure you that I-"

"Was he a rat? I'm guessing he was a rat, wasn't he?" Elena cut her off, digging into her ice cream, coming up with a heaped spoonful, "Men are all rats, except for Tseng, but you know that anyway."

Rose clenched her teeth, keeping her annoyance hidden behind tightly drawn lips. Elena continued, unaware of her superior's feelings, "I don't know what us we girls see in men. You can't live with them, you can't live without them. We're nothing but trophies to them. Take Reno," She guestured towards him with her chocoloatey spoon, "he does nothing but talk about women as lays. What does he know about women? I heard the other day, that his father runs the HoneyBee Inn." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as a loud snort escaped Rose, the dark-haired woman grimacing in pain as her top teeth dented her lower lip.

Reno and Rude looked at each other, neither one daring to say anything as Rose's explosive outburst finally burst out. She screeched, creasing up as a howl of laughter escaped her, followed by another, and another, and another. Rose slammed her fist down on the table, Elena jumping in surprise. She had never seen Rose laugh before, the closest thing being a soft chuckle. Now she sprawled across the table top, shuddering with ill stifled laughter. Had she said something so funny?

Evan glanced over at Reno, slightly amused to see him gob smacked, stuttering nonsense, "Buuuu...buuuu...buuuu...bu..." before rolling his head to look round at Rude, "Buut that's not supposed to happen." He managed at last, milking this unusual occurence for all it was worth, "She's supposed to get her pistols out and gun Elena or at least brain her with them."

Rude said nothing, chosing a light shrug as the best form of reply. Elena continued on with her mono conversation, "I had this boyfriend once. He was a real pain, always ordering me around, treating me like a housewife-" Rose's continued laughter threw her, forcing her to ask that question burning in her mind, "Did I say something funny?"

At last, Rose calmed herself, shaking her head as she searched for a tactful answer. There was none. "Elena, I'm sorry to tell you, but everyone knows Trey Henson works at the HoneyBee Inn. It's common knowledge. He used to be a Turk before that." The look on Elena's face was priceless, Evan concluding that it was lost somewhere between utter surprise at this new information and abject humiliation as every manager in the room began to laugh, Reeve looking up from his Financial times to find something funny had gone on without his noticing. Evan found a frown, seeing that Rose was trying to stop herself from laughing also, swallowing her mirth and pulling a straight face. She had two names down at the copy room. The second, a variation on the first - mini vindictive - apt.

Rose drew another calming breath, knitting her fingers once again before beginning her comfort speech, "Trey is one of those people we try to forget-" the unmistakable 'HEY!' from Reno's general vicinity was no surprise, Rose feeling a little like a traitor towards Mr. Henson Snr as she spoke, "-he is a deviant, no mistaking that." She was relieved to see Elena's enthusiasm return,

"Believe it. I've heard things about him that would make your toes curl. "

'There is one thing he does a lot of that makes my toes curl.' Rose found herself thinking with an inward smirk, 'Not that I would ever "do it" with Trey. That would be weirdness absolut.'

Elena continued, unaware of Rose's private thoughts, "How can anybody be so disgusting and disrespectful of their own body let alone anybody else's! I'll bet that's what your ex was like."

Surprising not only herself, but everybody else watching this bizarre exchange, Rose picked up Elena's spare spoon and dug into the ice cream, resting her head idly on one hand, "You have no idea."

(NOTE: Elena's great. I bet she has a freezer full of emergency tubs at home. No, Rose hasn't slept with Trey, don't worry. And Cyn, I'll keep the badly translated creepy Spanish to a bare minimum :P)


	9. Chapter 9

Blood: 9

Nibelheim

_Shinra mansion the locals called it; the grand mansion with the intriguing corporate secrets that sat at the top of Nibelheim. Nice use of natural stone, Vincent called it, standing beside the perimeter fence and staring up at it. So, the Science department would be spending the next year in some manner of class. That was something at least. _

_Presented with a printed briefing that morning, Vincent had some idea of what to expect. He knew nothing about genetic experiments, but knew enough about Professor Gast to realise that it must be quite something this 'Jenova project'. The Professor was nothing short of a genius, his various papers on the ancients good bedtime reading for the other leading experts in the field. His university thesis still stood as one of the main sources of information regarding those weird and wonderful ancients. The most Vincent knew about biology was where to shoot to kill and where to cripple. _

_He took a whistling breath, folding his arms across his chest and walking through the garden gate. The President had assigned him to 'oversee' the experiment. That meant guarding his charge and rubbishing any questions asked by the locals. _

_There was a trellis on the front wall, from the roof to the ground. Maybe it would be possible to get up there? Some things from childhood were never forgotten, and climbing had to be one of those things; whether up trees in the forest or Da-Chao, Vincent loved to climb, and had spent a great deal of his childhood in Wutai dragging his younger sisters up and down mountains. That trellis called for further investigation, when no one was around, of course. _

"_Where do you want this?" He looked over his shoulder to find that one of the Mps had done as he was told and brought his case from the truck. _

"_Upstairs." Vincent told him, crossing the garden quickly and holding the front door open. _

"_Fine." Obviously the poor man felt put upon, but that was tough. Vincent needed a little help with his everyday belongings, lugging his rather considerable gun collection around as he was. _

_From the various accounts of the Science department he had heard over the last few days, he had no idea what to expect. Morris had told him to 'expect the unexpected', so he had picked up every projectile weapon he owned (including the crossbow) and packed them. _

_Though the others were just trying to help, he felt worse about trailing along with the scientists than he had before. Richards and Evan had told him stories, as had Veld. If anyone would know it was him, the one Hojo always requested, calling him 'the reasonable one'. Even the saturday foreign exchange boy, Tseng, had something to say. He spent all day running files from place to place out of the copy room, so got to see a lot of the Company working. The Science department was no exception. _

"_I might need that crossbow." Vincent thought to himself, Hojo's two assistants walking by with an opaque cage. _

_Lucrecia followed them, Vincent inclining his head, partly from politeness, partly to hide behind his feathery fringe. The two of them would be spending a lot of time together over the next year, she as his charge, him as her bodyguard. _

_At least the poor woman only had his awkwardness to contend with, as opposed to the bad tempered mouthing off and lechery of the two Mps that had been sent along to help him keep things safe. They were hardly necessary in this backwater village. _

_Lucrecia halted, raising a curious eyebrow at the rucksack slung over his shoulder, "What's in there?" _

"_Crossbow." He answered curtly, the thing still on his mind. She raised both eyebrows at that, hurrying on her way as Professor Gast caught up to her. _

"_Morning, Vincent." He greeted the Turk, Vincent nodding respectfully. _

_It was quite an exciting prospect, seeing live what Professor Gast had up his sleeve this time around. _

"_Quite a building, isn't it?" Hojo had wandered up, stopping to impose on the lone Turk. "It was built specially for use as an out of town research centre. The people around here aren't too interested in what outsiders do, so they leave this place alone." _

"_Fascinating." Vincent's veiled sarcasm bit Hojo hard, the scientist going on his way into the mansion and calling to Lucrecia. So, Vincent Valentine was every bit as stuck up as people claimed. Stuck up people should watch themselves. Not everybody was patient enough to deal with them. _

_Vincent sighed, looking longingly over at the trellis. If he had to spend so long up here did it have to be with THESE people? _

_Shaking his head, he trailed indoors after them, intent on finding his room and isolating himself there, as soon as he had done one thing... _

(NOTE: So, here we are, the Nibelheim incident is underway!)


	10. Chapter 10

Blood: 10

Professor Reno

Of all the bizarre events Evan had witnessed in his time, that had to be one of the most. Tessi hardly believed it when he heard, his surprise kept hidden behind his poker face as he sat at the table bridging his cards. Evan found it hard to talk about anything else, "How can a person just change like that? I've never seen her react in such a... a... normal way." He spun round to face Tessi, throwing his arms up in defeat, "If that were you or me she would have bitten our heads off!" A dismissive wave was enough to silence his torrade, Tessi casting a sly glance at him from the corner of one narrowed blue eye.

"Calm yourself, Evan. Rose is Rose, that much we know. So what if she doesn't conform to your set in stone expectations of her? Why should she? If she wants to change, then surely that's a good thing. Nurture, not hinder, my friend."

Evan said nothing to that, frowning at Tessi's throw away attitude. He wouldn't recognise seriousness if it leapt up and stabbed him in the eye. Surprising, considering his vocation in life. Then Tessi McCarnon was not your average Turk. Though tidy, his attitude to life shone through in his demeanour. He played cards for a living, that was how Evan described him to raw recruits at least. When he wasn't training Turks, he was at a table somewhere in the building with a deck spread in front of him and a gang of ill-informed managers. He chose his targets well, using his young looks as a screen to hide his experience and skills.

Evan watched him expertly tuning his deck to fit his next game, his young and bright blue eyes scanning each card as it flicked by in his smooth bridge, his soft-looking light brown hair smoothed back out of his eyes into a tidy cascade down to the base of his neck. Those skinny fingers of his clamped tight suddenly, stopping the cards mid flow to slide the queen of hearts out and up his sleeve. Not surprised by his actions, Evan continued to watch as he took another identical deck from his breast pocket and selected the queen of hearts from that deck also. A third deck appeared out of his briefcase lining to be robbed of its queen of hearts also, the card slid into the first deck. A smile graced his naive young face at his own actions, the idea that this game was 'in the bag' obviously clear in his mind.

He was such a kid when it came to looks, but hiding behind that sweet face was the most devious con man you were ever likely to meet. His sleight of hand was legendary, his ability to steal and replace items from anyone or anywhere an invaluable skill. Rumour had it that he had once robbed the city gallery. The President had taken a shine to a painting there. Unfortunately, despite numerous threats and offers, the gallery refused to sell, so he had Tessi steal the painting and replace it with an almost indistinguishable copy. The original now took pride of place in his mansion's living room.

A rumour was just that, a rumour.

Shaking his head clear of these obstructive thoughts, Evan called out to Tessi, "You're supposed to be at the academy." Tess looked round at him with a smile, gliding gracefully to his feet and sweeping the deck off the table into a tidy pile and depositing it safely in his shirt pocket. Picking up his tie he threw it around his neck and knotted it, keeping an eye on his boss,

"No. Training day for me today. Zangan's in town, so I'm spending the afternoon refreshing myself on the basics. Why, what are you doing?"

Evan frowned deeply, his hands finding their way onto his hips without his noticing, "Who authorised this?"

"You did."

He looked blank, forcing a sigh from Tessi as he endeavoured to refresh his friend's memory, "The other week, 'Zangan's in town next Monday, can I have the afternoon off to brush up on my mad skillz etc?' 'Why of course Tess. Brush up all you need.' Or words to that effect. Remember?" Evan shook his head,

"Doesn't ring a bell." Pain in the ass.

"Okay, the scene is the employee lounge. It's hot 'cos the AC's busted up. You're looking particularly sweaty after assaulting the coffee machine and are in the process of reading a paper. The exact rag eludes me, but that doesn't matter. I come in and borrow ten gil. You seethe because the machine works for me. Memory working now, old man?"

"That time?" Evan sighed, lifting his hand to massage the bridge of his nose, "Sorry, Tess. I completely forgot."

"Happens to the best of us. Doesn't mean your memory's going or anything."

"Tess, I'm fifty-five. I'm not old." Obviously this joke was never going to get old, Rose's entrance to the office dragging Tessi's attention away before any more wise cracks could be fired off.

"Hey Rose. Heard you went all girly on us at lunch." She said nothing to that, continuing straight across the room to her desk, "Okay. Don't answer. Manners aren't an essential part of life."

"Not when it comes to you, McCarnon." She told him curtly, digging through her 'in' tray. Pulling out a red file, she took a seat on her desk and began to read, flicking through a few pages before selecting the one she wanted and unclipping it. "Evan, I need you to cover my shift at academy today. I have to pick up my peacemakers."

"I can't I'm afraid."

She looked over at him in disbelief, "Why ever not?"

"I'm already covering for Tess. He's off on some refresher course with Zangan."

"And it's virtually impossible to get a class with him these days." Tessi added, attempting to cement the deal.

Rose was silent, flicking through her file again to select another page and stack it on top of her previous choice. "You used to be his student. From what I know of Zangan, he would agree to a session with you any time, if only to see how you've come on."

"What's the matter with you today?" Again she refused to answer, sliding off her desk to her feet and taking the two sheets of paper. "Fine, let the bad manners continue!" What was the point in answering that? So she snubbed him, turning on one high-heeled ankle boot to stride out of the office and leave Tessi McCarnon to his own devices. He was not too happy, spinning round to lean on the table, finding that Evan had taken a seat there and poured himself a coffee. "How do you like that? You'd think I messed up her desk or something."

"She knows, Tess."

He rolled his eyes at Evan's comment, walking over to his own desk and grabbing his nunchuku from the back of his chair with a snap. "That's the reason for the bug up her ass? Maybe she doesn't want to know, but I sure as hell do. The speculation flying round the Company's killing me!" Evan looked up at that remark, watching him over the top of his newspaper as he asked,

"There's speculation?"

Tessi nodded, swinging his weapon over his shoulder and grabbing it with his free hand to hold it across the back of his neck, "And how. It's a hot cookie recently. All I ever hear are wild conspiracy theories."

Somewhat curious, Evan lowered his eyes back to the bold text printed on the pages in front of him. Conspiracy theories? What on earth for? There were thousands of children like Rose in Midgar alone. Surely they weren't all marred with conspiracy. "What theories?"

"Well," Tess began, taking up a casual lean against his untidy workstation, "Hojo." Evan's snort was indication enough of his feelings on the subject. "Heidegger was a short lived one. Then there was Billy from the cafeteria. She gets on well with him so he lasted about a week. The more interesting of us thought Kehller, though that's just ridiculous. Someone suggested Richards. They're now in the infirmary courtesy of a pair of nunchucks belonging to somebody we both know and cherish. Then there's Scarlet, but I really don't think so. Seeing as she and Reno get on so well, Trey's a major possibility." He thought a moment, straining his brain for any more suggestions, "The one you really won't like is Judith. People think she's a realistic suggestion."

"Not at all."

"You want an echo of that, the popular vote goes to you, seeing as you and her are so close."

Evan dropped his newspaper on the table, shaking his head lightly, "Not me, Tess. Not a chance."

He nodded, examining the end of his nunchucks closely, "I told them that's balls. Nobody believes me of course, but what else can I do but state the truth? To cut a long story short, every one from the WOS has been named but Vincent and Marlon."

"So very ridiculous." What a statement, heartily agreed with by Tess.

Leaning a moment longer in thought, Tess stood straight suddenly, stretching his arms and leaning back until his spine gave a loud crack. "Well, I'll be off and leave you in peace." He started towards the door, pulling it open but halting suddenly, looking round at his old friend with a smile, "Thanks for this afternoon, Evan. I really appreciate it."

Neglecting to watch him leave, Evan knew that he was sincere. Tessi really did take his art seriously, and the chance to train with Zangan was something that should never be turned down. Not only was Mr. McCarnon a top class poker player, he was one hell of a fighter. Rumour had it that he had only joined the Turks because he wanted to train them. After only one month on the job he had been promoted. He had been Rose's trainee, and she had herself sung his praises during his two year course. He had worked for what he wanted - done any small favour for any executive that asked - and achieved his goal. He had earned his promotion with blood, sweat and tears and by God was he a good teacher. The trainees took to him faster than anyone else. A large number of them liked himself and Rose, but Tessi was the one they kept their fingers crossed for when it was announced who they would train under. At twenty-one years old, he had done well for himself.

His attention was grabbed by a knock at the door. "Come." Reno poked his head round it, sticking his tongue out and biting it to find Evan alone,

"Bad time, boss?" He asked with an unnervingly sincere expression. Evan shook his head, picking up a biro from the centre of the table and starting on the crossword. Nodding, Reno invaded, closing the door behind himself and sauntering over to collapse in the chair opposite.

"Something on your mind, Reno?"

He hummed at Evan's question, eventually answering in a language the old Turk could understand.

"Naughtta. I just thought you might like to get the drop on something I heard fatass talking about." Fatass could only mean one person in Reno speak, Heidegger. Suddenly interested, Evan looked up from his puzzle,

"Speak."

Glad of the command, Reno leant across the table a little, well aware that no one could hear, but caution was a habit and habit was just that. "Rufus moving the cannon's a bad thing for you guys." He began in a low, drawling tone, "Apparently the three of you are going to be made active again."

That was the one thing Evan did not want to hear. "Bullshit."

"Never lie, boss. You know that."

Unfortunately he did know that. All too well.

"This is a kick in the face." His disappointment was clear in his voice, Reno taking the cafetiere from the centre of the table to make a fresh one.

"Life's a bitch, Heidegger's an asshole." he called back from the sink. Evan said nothing in reply, his years of service working against him in regards to speaking out against his superiors, even in confidence. Before he knew it Reno had returned with fresh coffee, a jam doughnut stuck carelessly in his mouth, "Don't worry about it, boss. There's no point bringing yourself down over it."

"Don't call me boss, Reno. There's no need for it."

"Sorry, boss." Of course Evan had no real objections to Reno's overuse of the word. It was nothing to do with rank and station, but an affectionate name the Turk reserved for him. Tseng was boss also, as was Rufus, but not in the same way.

"It's impractical for us Reno. Neither Rose, Tess or myself are suited to the field anymore. It's been years since I went on assignment. The only thing we'd be good for is meat shield duty."

Reno shook his head, "You guys are above MPs any day of the week. Besides." He took a bite of his doughnut, dunking the main wedge of it in his coffee, "You and Tess aren't field ready, but Rose..." Evan had to acknowledge that Reno was on to something there. She had been working in the field on the sly, that was common knowledge among the Turks. "Rufus' little psycho killer is as field-orientated as we come."

"Then Tess and I are meat shields." He sighed, watching Reno munching happily on his doughnut. "What's Heidegger going to do? Train Turks himself?" Reno merely shrugged at that, downing his scalding coffee and going for some more,

"What is this Costa coffee? This stuff's the best!" Obviously the coffee selection down the hall was seriously lacking. "Trey's gonna hear about this. We only got that weird stuff from Mideel left. Slavery coffee I bet." Since when had Reno given a stuff about fair trade? "Y'know, it's unbelievable some of the shit they try and pass off as coffee round here. The stuff in the office's bad enough, but what about that rat's piss they put in the machines? Come on, surely we're worth more than that!"

Evan made no reply, happy to pour himself a cup and revel in the taste. This new information, straight from the horse's mouth so to speak, weighed heavy on his shoulders. How would Tessi take it, when he was told that he had been placed in the line of fire again? Loyal service must mean little or nothing to warrant such a breach of contract. Maybe he was overreacting. Surely Heidegger would not even suggest it if he thought they could not handle it? Then again, the man was an idiot, plain as day. The people in his department kept it afloat, simple as.

"Rose is going to be over the moon when she hears about the status change." Reno's statement was accurate. She had loved active service, and had been crushed when she was promoted to the Senior Turks. It was not the done thing to turn down promotion, so she was stuck with it. She had been promoted over Tseng, leaving him feeling happy for and proud of her, but also over-looked and cheated. He had been with the Company for the better part of his life, how else would he feel to be forgotten in such a way? So time had taken her toll and torn them apart.

Staring into his deep, dark coffee, Evan shook his head. It was a sad, sad thing really, but they had not been strong enough to stand the stress.

Reno muttered something in Costa, possibly in appreciation of the coffee by the look on his face. It paid to be bi-lingual. Perhaps learning another language would not have been such a bad idea. In fact, Evan Reilly realised that he was the only one in the department unable to communicate in two languages. Rose could speak almost flawless Wutaiese, and even Tessi knew a smattering of Costa. Reno of course, could speak it fluently, Trey's foreign heritage dictating that he should understand half the things his father said when inebriated. 'Get me to the hospital' had been the first phrase Reno had learnt, way back when he was two. It was almost like that kid had been looking after Trey ever since he arrived on his doorstep in a basket. If there was ever an event to promote the use of condoms, that was it.

Reno was the result of a one-night stand in Mideel during the Miss World pageant twenty-eight years ago. Trey had met Miss Mideel (real name never disclosed), in a small bar while on assignment on the island, and the two of them had got progressively more sloshed until they had ended up in bed together, going at it like there was no tomorrow. Trey left the next day and never saw her again. She remembered him, though not for his performance but more for the way he had ruined her career. Her unwanted weight gain had effectively put an end to her chances on the pageant circuit and her new role as a mother made her even more unhappy. She took Reno to Midgar, tracked Trey down to his apartment and left Reno on the doorstep with a note reading 'This is your fucking fault! Deal with it!' pinned to the front. Thus was Reno's arrival in the world.

It did explain his good looks - his mother was a beauty queen and his father was not bad looking himself. Evan snapped out of it, realising that he was staring, his tired brown eyes locking with Reno's over the rim of his coffee cup. Apparently Reno had reached an unwanted conclusion, "Something on my face, Evan? Or you just suddenly find me irresistible?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Reno. My mind was elsewhere." Though the fact remained that Reno Henson was an attractive individual, not that Evan found him attractive, more acknowledged that he was. The idea made him sick. Why females went for Reno he could only hazard a guess. Surely the fairer sex had more self respect than to go for looks alone?

"I'm not being ridiculous. Presumptuous, maybe, but not ridiculous." A sly smile curved Reno's lips, convincing him to hide behind his cup, "Don't you like me, boss?"

"No, Reno. I do not like you. I only put up with you because you have surgically attached yourself to the Turks." That was a little harsh, was it not? It was hard not to like Reno, though not impossible.

"That stings. It really does." He lowered his eyes away from Evan, half-heartedly scanning the list of puzzle clues in the paper. "Three across, pompous."

Sighing, Evan picked up his pen and wrote it down. How had Reno known that clue had been bothering him? Another of his most annoying personality traits. "Any reason you are still here, or are you hanging around for the greater beverage choice?" Reno shook his head in answer, annoying Evan further with his lack of specificity. "Then why are you here?"

Slamming his coffee cup down on the table, the red head let out an exaggerated cry of disbelief, "Because I'm bored! There's more life in here than that dump down the corridor. Rude's filing a report on that drowned plane we waded about on and Elena's sleeping off the sick feeling she got from eating too much ice cream." He began drumming his fingertips on the table top, his sharp turquoise eyes darting to zero in on the ripples in his coffee, "I'm free, but there's nothing for me to do. The pool table's shot after the amateur wrestling match me and Rude had on it. He DDTed me right through the top of it and Rufus hasn't got round to getting us a new one yet."

Annoyed by this sudden torrent of childish whining, Evan huffed, scribbling at his crossword, "Can't you go outside or something?"

"I would go to Goblins, if AVALANCHE hadn't blown it up when they ruined the number one. Poor Geordie's still straightening the place out. He's threatening to stop, what with meteor about to crunch us all to death and all." Resigned, Reno got to his feet and began to pace, "I'm bored outta my skull. What should I do, boss? I'm going stir crazy in here."

"Reno, it's only one afternoon. Entertain yourself. Go out and play or something. Better yet, go home."

About to protest, Reno fell silent suddenly, aware that annoying Evan was an unfair thing to do The poor guy had just learnt that he was going to die on the streets of Midgar, how fair was it to destroy his final days with contrived whining? Maybe he should go outside or something. Turning on his muddy heel, Reno made for the door, intent on slamming it, just to get that spark of womanly annoyance across. Evan called out to him, stopping him in his tracks, "Reno."

"Yeeees?"

The thoughtful look on his superior's face forced that cold feeling to dump itself in the pit of Reno's stomach, poking at the sides with one icy finger in an attempt to be noticed, "You've been with the Company a good few years now. You're a good Turk, able to adapt to a variety of different situations." Raising an eyebrow in surprise at the idea of his even asking this, Evan forced his mouth to work, "How would you like to spend the afternoon teaching at academy?"

The look on the red head's face said it all, his skinny hand flying to point at his wiry chest, "Me? Teach?" Was Evan serious? "You want me to train recruits?" Evan nodded an affirmative, a small smile touching him at Reno's expression. Obviously the idea appealed to him, the way he brushed off his imaginary mortarboard and put his fists on his hips, "Professor Reno. I like it!" Sticking his tongue out and biting it, he swept out of there like a red tornado, remembering to slam the door as he went.

'Professor Reno?' God what an awful thought! Evan rubbed his forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. What had he just sentenced those poor raw recruits to? Ah well, what was done was done. At least Rose could keep her appointment with the gunsmith.

Idly flicking a crumb across the table, Evan found Reno's words creeping back into his head, 'the three of you are going to be made active again'. How could Heidegger do this to them? After all these years of loyal service he was tossing them right back into the fray. The chance of refresher training seemed unlikely. If this was something to do with the cannon, then they would be needed soon. So, death was coming quicker than he had first thought?

It was a fact of life. So far the Shinra had failed time and again to do anything that had effectively counteracted Sephiroth's madness. The people were getting braver, Rude's story about being attacked in public and having to off a civilian chilling Evan to the bone. There had been a time when Joe public had been afraid of the Turks. What had happened to the good old days? Admittedly a Winchester was more than a match for your average civilian, but turning on an innocent turned his stomach. If it was necessary, it would be done.

Wringing his hands, Evan found himself looking across the office at his desk; more specifically the telephone standing idle there. After several minutes of choking the idea down, he found that it was just too strong, his kindly and caring side winning through. With a sharp, defeated sigh, Evan stood and crossed the room to collapse in his chair and swipe the receiver from the phone. It had been a long time since he had dialled this number, he realised suddenly that he had no idea if she even lived there anymore. The melodic ringing told him it was too late to back out now, his hand tightening around the receiver as a woman's voice answered, "Hello?"

Evan stiffened. It was her. "Hello?" The woman asked again, shocking Evan out of his stupor,

"E... Emma?" He asked cautiously, leaning forward on his desk.

"Yes?" Evan said nothing further, fumbling his words as he struggled to get them past his lips. A moment of silence passed, the woman seemingly getting annoyed, "Who is this?"

"It... it's Evan." A sharp breath from her end forced him to hold his own in anticipation of her slamming the phone down on him.

"Evan. It's been a long time."

He nodded, forgetting that she could not see him. "How are you keeping?"

"I'm fine." Silence. God, this was awkward.

"That's good. To hear."

"How are you? Are you still with the Shinra?"

"Yes. I'm head of the Senior Turks now."

"Really?" She sounded surprised. "When did that happen?"

"Several years ago. The responsibility factor's been upped, but it's not that different to working lower down the food chain." His words flowed more freely now, his increasing comfort with the conversation rubbing off on her.

"I'm happy for you. I'm doing a flower arrangement right now. You always had good taste in colours, what do you think, red roses or yellow evening primrose? They're with blue lupins and green ferns."

He smiled, taking a moment to consider the choices, bending one arm up on the desk and resting his head in his hand. "I would say evening primrose. Pale yellow goes better with blue and tones down the green. Blue and green must not be seen." Some snipping noises and a smooshy noise, possibly oasis reached him, a satisfied 'ha' following closely.

"Perfect, as usual."

"So," He started, determined to get to the point of his call. He couldn't believe he was about to suggest this...

(NOTE: Reno the coffee connoisseur. Between that and booze, I shouldn't imagine that he drinks much else. Evan's a sweetheart, you'll find out why later.)


	11. Chapter 11

Blood - 11

Vinny's bored

_Days and nights seemed as bad as each other, melding into one, long, extended session of total boredom. Vincent sighed, leaning against the window frame. Even the view left something to be desired. There was only so much stone a man could stare at before it all started to look the same. 'If I'm so bored, why am I still staring out of this dammed window?' _

_The answer to that was simple – Vincent Valentine _was_ bored. So bored that this was the most interesting thing to do. Playing with the crossbow had been yesterday's activity, and like staring at stone, had got old quickly. 'I suppose I could ask Professor Gast for some paint. I could paste it on a wall and watch it dry.' _

_This was ridiculous. Shaking his head hard, Vincent tore himself away from the window and strolled back to the landing to lean on the banister. For possibly the thousandth time that week he found himself wondering what Marlon and Veld were doing back in Midgar. Even filing would be more interesting than this. If Heidegger and the President were trying to kill him with boredom, then they were succeeding spectacularly. _

_Guarding Perimeters, keeping an eye on uncooperative scientists; it was enough to drive a man back to the evil weed. Giving up once had been hard enough. 'A bad habit I can do without.' _

_Every day was so repetitive, but yesterday had been the worst of all. Yes, he was supposed to 'oversee' the experiment, but acting as Hojo's personal slave was asking too much. It was an insult to spend the day holding things, fetching and carrying – the good Professors had been good enough to give the pack mules the day off – listening to that man's scientific drivel was enough to kill any man with boredom. Never had Vincent met a man so in love with himself and his ideals. The only saving grace of that day had been Lucrecia. _

_She was more than happy to exchange looks, murmur a quiet joke in passing. Hojo had looked at him as though he were mad, all those times he snorted for no apparent reason. That had almost made all the pointless toil worth it. Yes, Lucrecia was one special lady. Up until now he had never really had a chance to get to know her, and truthfully, he was glad of this time. _

_He spasmed suddenly, flinching back as his knee connected with a banister strut. He choked, squirming uncontrollably as he struggled to get away from the feeling running up and down his ribs. _

"_I knew it!" _

_Vincent turned, suddenly able to control himself again, leaning back against the banister and staring at Lucrecia with wide eyes. She grinned at him sweetly, leaning forward on tip toes, her hands clasped behind her back. _

"_Lucrecia?" Vincent croaked, wrapping his arms tightly around his ribs as she brought her hands from behind her back. _

"_I knew it." She repeated herself, wandering by to lean against the banister beside him. "You ARE the ticklish type!" _

_Vincent relaxed, turning to lean front on the banister, somewhat confused. "So," he began, frowning down at the lobby carpet below, "that was the reason for your merciless attack on my ribs?" _

_Lucrecia nodded, taking a second to blow her bangs out of her face, "You looked so solemn. I thought you needed a smile on that sad face of yours." _

"_Thank you, but I assure it was not necessary." _

"_Of course it was! Don't be ridiculous." She looked round at him, jabbing her finger against the end of his nose, "You always look so unhappy. Aren't I entertaining enough for you?" _

"_What?" Vincent faltered, unsure of what she meant by that. Lucrecia rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance, _

"_I try my best to stop you looking so downhearted all the time. If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't want to be here." The lack of answer brought her hand to her mouth in sudden realisation, "You don't, do you?" _

_Vincent was silent for some long minutes, aware that he shouldn't voice his feelings on the subject, but, she was asking, wasn't she? "Not really, no." _

"_Then why did you take the assignment?" _

"_The Turks do as we are told. If I am given this assignment, I must see it through to the end. That is how it is." _

"_I see." Lucrecia frowned, scratching her name in the banister patina with one fingernail. "That would explain why you always look like a kicked puppy." _

"_Excuse me?" Vincent looked round at her, "I do not look like a kicked puppy." _

"_yes you do." Lucrecia insisted, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder and wandering away towards the stairs. "You do this thing with your eyes." _

"_What 'thing'?" Vincent trailed after her, quickening his pace to catch up and fall in step with her. She didn't answer until they reached the lobby, where she slid the tails of her lab coat forward and sat down on the bottom stair. _

"_You get this look, like you're lost and about to cry. Its heartbreaking to see. I'll bet you could always get your way when you were little." _

_Vincent sat down beside her, reclining on the stairs and looking up at the ceiling. "Me? Never. Acting or speaking out of turn was not allowed." He closed his eyes, already sick of the unchanging ceiling. "My father believed children should be seen and not heard." _

"_What about you?" Lucrecia began, interested, "Do you subscribe to that too?" _

"_I don't know. We are all allowed to express ourselves, I suppose children should have that right also." _

"_You're not very opinionated." _

"_My opinions generally stay where they cannot be challenged." Lucrecia chuckled at that, Vincent sitting up and looking round at her in surprise. "What?" _

"_Let's go outside. It's too nice a day to be stuck in here." _

_Vincent was about to argue, well aware that he was supposed to stay indoors, where he was meant to be that afternoon, but the pull of fresh air and natural light was too much to resist. _

"_Come on." Lucrecia took his hands and leant back to pull him to his feet,"stop lounging around." He did as he was told, getting to his feet and starting for the front door, only to be stopped by Lucrecia's hand on his chest. She stood on tip toes, staring into his face and frowning thoughtfully. "You have very unusual eyes." She concluded at last, settling back on her heels. "I never noticed before." _

_Vincent rubbed thoughtfully at his left eye, "Yes." He murmured, leaving it be and grounding his 'unusual' stare securely on the floor, or more appropriately Lucrecia's ankles. "When I was born, most of the village thought of me as a 'demon child'." _

"_Really?" _

"_Yes."He seemed lost to his thoughts suddenly, cradling his chin in one hand. "It was about then my grandmother started wearing her hair back." _

"_What does that have to do with anything?" _

"_She is albino. With it out of the way, people could see where I got it from. Nobody would say anything to her about it, so she saved me from ridicule." _

"_She sounds like a special woman." Lucrecia commented, genuinely interested. _

_Vincent nodded thoughtfully, still cradling his chin, "Suki is very... forceful, when she wants to be." _

"_Hmmmm." Lucrecia took her hand from his chest, spinning on one high heel and heading for the front door once more. A little confused, Vincent followed. _

_Lucrecia was certainly a strange woman, her mind never on one thing for more than a few minutes. She had amazing powers of concentration; she must have to be a scientist, but non-scientific matters made her seem almost scatterbrained. Not stupid, by any means. Lucrecia was both beautiful and clever, a perfect combination. Yet Vincent shook his head, running a few steps to catch up with her at the door. "Won't Hojo resent your spending time with me?" _

_Lucrecia looked surprised, her hand flying to her chest at that, "Why? We're not doing anything wrong, are we?" _

_Vincent shook his head, "No. Of course not. It's just that Hojo seems like the jealous type." _

"_What's to be jealous of?" She asked, turning a spirited twirl and leaving him to catch the door, "There's nothing sinister in two friends taking a walk together, is there?" _

_'Friends'? This was news to Vincent. Passing acquaintances, maybe, charge, yes. Friends? Not his choice of description, though, it did feel right to refer to Lucrecia as friend. "No." He said, sliding his hand up the side of the door so that she could walk underneath and out into the garden, "There's nothing wrong with that at all." _

"_My sentiments exactly." She clasped her hands behind her back and strolled off towards the fir tree that stood around the side of the mansion, lifting her legs unnaturally high. Vincent followed automatically, unconsciously mimicking her. _

_The two of them remained silent until they reached the tree, Lucrecia gathering up her lab coat and daintily sitting down, Vincent collapsing next to her with a sort of quiet grace. He looked up at the sky, noting that they couldn't stay outside too long, as rain was on its way by the look of the clouds. Lucreica's voice snapped him from his quiet observations to look round at her. "You know Hojo doesn't like you, don't you?" _

_Vincent lowered his eyes to the well tended grass and picked a blade between two pale fingers. "I did get that impression." _

"_He says you're a 'stuck up sonnofabitch'." _

"_How kind." _

"_But you know," Lucrecia continued, staring at the wall of the inn, "I don't think that at all." _

"_Oh?" This was quite amusing. She shook her head, _

"_No." and looked round at him with a warm smile, "I think you're shy." _

_Vincent looked away, picking at the grass more vigourously, "What makes you think that?" Lucrecia held her knees, rocking back and forth and looking up to see a crow nesting in the tree above, _

"_Well, for one thing, you're so quiet." _

"_Perhaps I enjoy silence." _

"_And you stutter ever so slightly when addressed unexpectedly." _

"_I do not." _

"_You always look like someone's going to kick you in the shin too, when you're not looking." _

"_You never know when trouble's-" _

"_Vincent!" Lucrecia exclaimed, turning to face him, "You don't need to pretend to me. If you're shy, you're shy. That's the end of it." _

_He was silent, examining his grass blades closely, almost in an obsessive madness. Lucrecia shook her head, "Oh I give up on you, Vincent Valentine!" and turned her back on him to look out over the fence at some of the local children playing behind the inn. _

_Vincent dropped the grass and rested his hands in his lap, staring at them as though angry with them. The last thing he wanted was to upset her. Swallowing nervously, he said, "Yes, I am shy. Some days I curse my social ineptitude, but it's just the way I am." _

_Lucrecia looked over her shoulder at him, surprised to see his black eyebrows knitted into a worried frown. Did it bother him that much? He continued, "I am sorry if I have upset you in any way, Professor Crescent. I didn't mean to, and I am sorry." _

_He looked so down. Was this all to do with her jibes? "You haven't upset me, Vincent." She told him, turning back to him and taking his hand, much to his surprise, "I was only messing about. I'm sorry if _I_ upset _you_." _

"_I tend to take things the wrong way." He muttered in response, feeling his cheeks flush red. Damn it, why did she have to touch him? _

_Though he had yet to tell anyone, Vincent acknowledged himself that he had taken a shine to Lucrecia over the past few weeks. No matter what she was doing, whether it be examining samples or experimenting on the grassland animals the science department had brought along, she always looked perfect. Unfortunately, she was with Hojo. Far be it from Vincent to entice a woman into infidelity, he realised that there was no chance of a relationship with Lucrecia Crescent, no matter how badly he wished for one. She had said it herself, they were friends. _

"_Everyone takes things the wrong way now and again. I know I do." She got to her feet, leaning against the tree to get a better view of what those mischievous boys were up to behind the inn. "It's just part of human nature." Her frown forced Vincent to find one of his own, relaxing as she let it fade and looked round at him, "From now on though, it's Lucrecia. Professor Crescent doesn't sound right coming from your mouth." _

_Vincent almost flinched at the informality she had just requested, but turned his attention on what troubled her instead. "What is wrong?" _

"_Those kids." She answered, pointing down the hill for him to see. "I think they're about to try something they shouldn't." _

"_You mean trespass?" Lucrecia nodded her answer. Vincent got to his feet, watching the four youngsters with a blank expression. "Perhaps I should inform them that children should be neither seen nor heard inside this fence?" _

_Lucrecia chuckled at that, muffling the sound behind her lab coat sleeve. "Hypocrite." She hissed at Vincent, glad to see him smile in mock cruelty and start off down the hill towards the possible offenders. _

_One thing she would say for Vincent Valentine; in the past week he had shown her a false innocent sense of humour that made her chuckle. Without fail. _

(NOTE: Vinny and Lucrecia sitting in a tree... Seriously, some Vincent and Lucrecia time for us. I don't care what people say, the woman is perfect for him. Yes, I do write Turk Vincent as awkward, but where would be the realism in a confident, overly debonair Vincent Valentine? I like awkward and socially inept any day.)


	12. Chapter 12

Blood: 12

Physically examined by Hojo

Today was shaping up to be a good day. Feeling good after the telephone call to Emma the previous day, Evan found a renewed spring in his step as he climbed the stairs to the office. It was nice to have that business out of the way. If only he could do all the things he had wanted to do in life before he died, that would make his week. So he found himself humming as he hit the door open with his backside and danced over to collapse in his chair and throw his feet up to rest on the pile of papers waiting there.

At that point the colour drained from his face to see Tessi sitting across the room at his own desk, cradling his chin in his hands, watching him. "Good... morning, Tess."

Tessi merely smiled, crossing his legs under the desk, "Good morning, Evan. I would ask how you are, but I can see for myself."

"We're all entitled to good days, Tessi." Evan retorted, forcing the shakes of embarrassment from his voice and sorting through his papers in an attempt to look business-like.

"I gotcha. So, you did okay yesterday with mine and Rose's trainees?"

Evan looked up from his work briefly, frowning in thought before remembering how yesterday, pre-phone call had played out. "Oh, no. I sorted something out. Reno took your two." The look on Tessi's face said it all. "Don' look at me like that. Reno is an experienced Turk with the advantage of fresh field work."

"He also holds the title of chugga-champ at the Kalm beer festival. Evan, Reno can't even pronounce responsible properly, and you let him loose on the newbies?"

"I told you. I have the utmost respect for his abilities."

Tessi snorted, leaning hard on his elbows and reaching for his desk tidy as though about to throw it at Evan's stupid head, "You're lyin' out your ass!"

"I'd prefer it if you were to keep such words to yourself. I don't appreciate profanity in my office." Tessi said nothing to that,lowering his eyes to stare at the report sheet in front of him. Evan was the boss, and what he said was law. "Anyway, it's just you and me this morning. Rose is in this afternoon."

"Why? She doing Rufus' dry cleaning?" The venom in that question was not lost on Evan, though he chose to ignore it,

"Her bike needs repairs actually. She's taking the morning off to sort it out. That, and she's got her physical today."

"Why doesn't she just take it to a mechanic?"

"Because she likes to do things herself. It saves money."

Tessi never got the chance to point out the flaws in Evan's answer, a knock at the door startling him into silence. "Come." Evan said, engrossing himself in his papers once more. He snapped to attention immediately as Heidegger entered. "Sir."

"Good morning, Evan. I won't stay long." What a shame, "I came down to tell you to expect a delivery this afternoon. New uniforms are on their way down here for the three of you. I thought we should put up a united front, so I arranged some blue uniforms for you three." He looked around, suddenly aware of Rose's absence. "Where is Miss Jennings?"

"I gave her the morning off, Sir. She had been over worked recently and has some issues to take care of." Heidegger grunted at Evan's answer, taking a seat on the edge of the head Turk's desk,

"Well, I trust she will be here this afternoon?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I want a word with her."

That didn't sound good. "If I may be so bold, Sir, what about?"

Heidegger picked up Evan's rubix cube and began fiddling with it. "Her orders when the three of you are turned loose on the streets. Nothing for you to really worry about."

That answer served only to intrigue Evan further, but he said nothing more on the subject, taking his cube from Heidegger and solving it in three turns. "There's a knack to it." He explained, setting it back beside his desk tidy and leaning on his elbows.

"I see. Tell her that I want to see her when she comes in, would you?"

"Will do."

Why did this always take so long? Rose asked herself that question every time she was sat on this examination table, her sleeve rolled up, waiting for a blood sample to be taken. She hated physicals; couldn't stand being poked and prodded and jabbed with needles. Surely it wasn't necessary?

What's more, Hojo was the one doing the examining. Yes, he was a pleasant enough conversationalist, but there was something about him which set her on edge. Never mind his reputation as being a bit unhinged, he creeped her out. Possibly because he was always so glad to see her. Especially today.

Right now he was scribbling down her height and weight, muttering something to himself about how short she was. There was nothing wrong with being 5'4 tall, and besides, he should keep his opinions to himself.

"Are we almost done?" She asked with a sigh, rubbing the crook of her elbow in anticipation of the blood sample.

"Yes, yes. Almost." He set his notes aside and took a needle from his lab coat pocket. Rose eyed it in distaste,

"Are you sure that's clean? I don't want to catch anything."

Hojo chuckled at that, examining it purely to set her even more on edge. "Of course it's clean. We wouldn't want you coming down with any of the viruses I have in here. They would do you no good at all." He shook his head, "No, no. We want you fit and healthy."

If he was trying to disturb her, he was doing a good job. None the less, she sat still as he grabbed her arm and took his precious blood sample. She had never liked needles, that was something Hojo knew and remembered, turning his back to her to take the blood.

Rose said nothing, biting her lip until the stinging subsided.

"There," Hojo said, looking at the needle closely, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Give me your definition of bad and we'll compare notes."

"You complain almost as much as Sephiroth used to. Almost, but not quite as much."

Rose couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head. Whenever Hojo took a blood sample it was as though all his Christmases had come at once. "Here." He presented her with some cotton wool pads. She took them without a word, pressing one onto her elbow. "You're done now. As usual you are in perfect health. If there's anything wrong, it's that you're slightly under your optimum weight, but that doesn't matter. I'll send you the results of your blood test in the next week."

Rose nodded, sliding off the table onto her feet, dabbing at her elbow. She had always had quite thin blood. Hojo thrust a piece of paper at her, "Give this to Mr. McCarnon."

"All right." She folded it and put it in her jacket pocket.

Watching her leave, Hojo shook his head, turning back to the examination table and the blood sample. Miss Jennings was always a pleasure to work with, unlike some Turks he knew...

"RENO!"

The red head lengthened his stride, stuffing his hands roughly in his pockets and whistling the tune of 'Jimmy crack corn'. There was only one thing this could be about...

Iowa bolted down the corridor, snatching his night stick from his belt and flipping it open. Oh, this would be sweet. Lovely, sweet revenge. He was unprepared when Reno collapsed almost bonelessly to the floor and curled into a ball, sending him tripping onto the polished floor just outside the active Turks' office.

He sat up, rubbing his elbow tenderly, somewhat lost as to what had just happened. Reno clucked his tongue, shaking his head in the most condescending way he could. "What you doing down there?"

"You stole my PHS from my locker, while I was in the shower, didn't you?"

"I'm not saying anything without an attorney present."

"Dammit! You sent a message to Crysta, proclaiming my undying love for her, didn't you?"

Reno drew his fingers across his lips, "Zip."

"Then she came up to me and kicked me in the balls!"

"Ooh." Now that had to hurt.

"You're a bastard."

"I know."

Iowa got to his feet, brushing off his uniform and glowering at Reno. "You know what it feels like to be kicked in the balls!"

"Do I?"

Enough was enough. As if getting kicked in the balls wasn't bad enough, Crysta now thought he had a thing for her. The woman was a bitch, simple as. She had no desire to let him have a 'thing' for her. She hated him, he hated her, that was the clear cut working relationship they had.

She didn't like anything, except her shotgun. And hunting. They were the only things she did like. "Prepare to die."

Reno sighed, moving aside and narrowly missing Iowa's night stick to his head. It was Rose who got the full force of it in the shoulder.

Iowa pulled up short, opening his mouth to say something, but managing only a drawling croak. Rose clutched her shoulder, staring at it in disbelief. Were people trying to get on her nerves today or was it just her?

Reno hissed, stepping back a little. He knew Rose, had done for a long time and when she snapped she went with a crack. He was not disappointed.

She looked round at Iowa with an intensity unlike anything he had seen before, forcing him to step back as Reno did. The thing which set people on edge about Rose was her eyes. They were green, but glowed ever so slightly, not even enough to normally be seen in lit rooms. Unless she was angry. Nobody was sure why, even she had no idea what the reason for it was, but when they visibly glowed it was time to run. Right now was one of those times.

"Iowa." He nodded. She stepped forward, nose to nose with him and grabbed his tie, yanking him down to her level, "If you ever, ever do something like that to me again," she spat through her teeth, "I will personally break both your legs and ensure that you never see another day. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." Without warning she snatched his arm, bending it up behind his back and rushing him into the wall, forcing his cheek against it and kicking his knees out from under him, "I have not had the best few days, and you have successfully worsened them with your stupidity. Do you want me to kill you?"

"No, ma'am."

"What?"

"I said no, ma'am!"

"You had better be sincere, because I would love to shoot you right now." She exhailed, breathing out as much of her anger as she could in one go. "Now," she muttered, "get out of my sight."

Iowa did as he was told, getting to his feet and walking off down the corridor. Rose would yell at him if he ran. She hated seeing people running in corridors for some reason.

"Don't you dare cross paths with me again today!" She called after him. Once satisfied he was out of sight, she cradled her shoulder, taking slow breaths. Reno put his hands in his pockets, looking round and down at her with raised eyebrows.

"You wonder why trainees call you 'that real serious bitch'?"

She chose not to hear that, flapping her arm like some sort of pathetic bird, attempting to circle her shoulder but pulling it back with a yelp. "Little bastard's fractured something."

"You okay?" He went to take hold of her arm, but Rose pulled it away.

"I'm fine. Evan can fix it for me. Just be stiff for the next few days."

"Good. You're made of tougher stuff than syndicate boy can break."

She managed a smile at that. "Thank you for your concern, Reno." With that, she went on her way down the corridor to the Senior Turks' office.

Reno watched her go, his head cocked to one side in his only thoughtful expression of the day so far. In all the time he had known Rose she had been hot-tempered. You wouldn't think so to look at her, always so calm and quiet as she was. That made him think.

He had first met Rose way back when he was ten. She was nine then, and the shyest little thing you could ever imagine. Trey had told him not to intimidate her, and not to make fun of her. That was strange, he usually encouraged making fun of people; loved doing it himself, but Rose was off limits in that respect.

Despite 'knowing of' each other, they had never been friends. Passing acquaintances, yes, but not friends. She accepted him more than liked him, it seemed – he could talk to her when she was angry without getting his head bitten off, and could poke fun at her without getting thrown against a wall – and he accepted her in turn. What a weird relationship they had.

Oh well, no time for standing around in the corridor all day. Things to do, places to go, jammy donuts to eat before Rude could get them. Stretching and mewling like some kind of choking cat, Reno turned on his muddy heel and strolled into the Turk's office.

(NOTE: A very segmented chapter for you, like a worm. I'm using what I know of Before Crisis in this re-write, and as such two of the characters, Rod Male and Shotgun Female. Yeah, I gave them names because they kind of need them, so they're Iowa and Crysta-Bel. They're the only two I have any kind of insight into their characters without playing the game from watching Last Order. For those of you who don't know, Iowa was part of the gang world, and got caught sneaking into the Shinra building by Reno, and Crysta is a hunter. That's information from their bios, so it's not a spoiler, fear not.

And yes, Hojo does do Rose's physicals. He does them for all the Turks. We all know Hojo, the man likes to study humans.)


	13. Chapter 13

Blood: 13

Cloud is a moron

God he looked slovenly. Of all the things to be, why slobbish? The answer to that was simple enough; because he was a slob. Was it too much to ask for him to leave it at home? No. Yet again he had come to work, slobbing in the office, slobbing on assignment and now slobbishly slobbing all over the board table. Of all the thing to slob on!

"Mr. Reilly?"

"Wha?" Evan tore his eyes away from Reno to find Heidegger staring back at him, more in surprise than annoyance. "I'm sorry, Sir. Could you repeat yourself."

"Still hung up on me, Boss?" Reno chuckled, elbowing Rude in the side. Evan shot him a glare, but said nothing. Heidegger did as Evan requested,

"You are to patrol the Sector two plate. Mr. McCarnon will be in Sector one and Miss Jennings has Sector eight. That is okay by you I take it?"

Evan nodded readily, "Of course. It is your decision to make, not mine." That seemed to appease Heidegger, turning his attention on Reno, Rude and Elena.

Tessi nudged Rose with his elbow, rolling his eyes and sticking his fingers down his throat. She flashed a brief half-smile and focused on listening in on Reno and co's orders.

From Heidegger's self-important babbling, she found that the three actives were to go trawling through Midgar's underbelly in search of Cloud and his little band of planet-friendly chums. The spiky-headed clot had become something of a legend in the office recently, Reno moaning about him seemingly all the time, Elena sobbing about how he had brutalised Tseng and Rude being Mr. Stoic and keeping his feelings to himself. He usually felt the same way Reno did, so if that was any indication...

Cloud Strife, another one of Hojo's little experiments gone walkabouts. At least he was trying to do some good, unlike Sephiroth. The whole atmosphere at Shinra had changed since he appeared and did in the President. That was a day Rose could never forget. She and Tessi had taken the fall for that little mishap, though Rufus seemed a little under affected by the whole thing. Perhaps that was a good thing for her and Tessi.

"You do know that ninety per cent of Midgar's population piss in those tunnels, right Sir?" Reno asked Heidegger, a look on his face more sincere than any of his colleagues had seen in a long time. The indifferent grunt he received was answer enough, all three Turks saluting and walking out of the room in single file.

Heidegger turned back to 'Evan's men' as he thought of them, smoothing his beard thoughtfully. "You heard my concerns about AVALANCHE getting involved. In addition to yourselves there will be members of SOLDIER first class stationed on the cannon." The three of them nodded their understanding. He looked at Rose, smoothing his beard once again. A nervous habit? "Miss Jennings, you remember your orders?."

"Sir."

"I want you to go down to stores and pick up a Sniper CR. If in the event AVALANCHE get by the other Turks, I want you to take out Cloud and Barret. The others don't matter so much, but I want those two dead. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Heidegger breathed a sigh, clasping his hands behind his back and strolling over to the window, looking up at the sister ray. "Sector eight houses the most direct route to the cannon. From the stairs you would have the perfect opportunity to pick them off."

"I am aware of that fact, Sir."

He knew that. A man had to be allowed to revel in his genius once in a while. "Dismissed then."

"Fuckin' jackass!" Tessi exclaimed, punching the boardroom doors, pulling back his hand and shaking it.

"Cool it, Tess." Evan instructed him.

"He drags us out of semi-retirement and tosses us back on the streets in the line of fire without a by your leave. Then issues orders like we should be suckin' his ass and playing puppy."

Admittedly Evan had got the same impression, but had learned to let such things slide off his back and into forgetfulness. He shook his head, stopping beside the stairway security door. "I know, but we have to deal with it. Following orders is what we do. Just remember that."

"I'll remember it all right. How can I forget when it's pounded into my skull by bastards like that all day?"

Rose looked wistful. Evan noticed, focusing on her and leaving Tessi to stew, "What's the matter?"

She shrugged lightly, brushing her ponytail over her shoulder to hang long down her back. "Nothing. Just wondering if a CR is the right gun for the job."

Tessi forgot his gripes at that, looking round at her in disbelief, "Can you think of nothing else but work! We are probably going to be torn limb from limb by an ungrateful public and you're thinking about shooting Cloud Strife?"

"What would you suggest?" She spat back, "Clucking and running around like a headless chicken? It's doing a lot for you."

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!"

"She does have a point, Tess." Evan swiped his keycard through the reader beside the door, secretly praying as he always did that it would be accepted. The door slid open without a problem. "The best thing we can do is keep focused. Isn't that what you're supposed to be good at? Besides, everyone's out for this one. Iowa's just below you in the slum, so he'll be in radio range if you need a hand."

Tessi snorted, "Yeah, like I'd need assistance from that little prawn." and started off down the stairs.

Evan almost threw his hands up in defeat. Tessi could be so juvenile sometimes! Why couldn't he just grow up and stay grown up?

Rose appeared to pick up on his feelings, taking his arm, "He's upset. There's nothing more to it. Give him time and he'll get used to it."

"We don't have time, Rose. This evening could be our last."

She shook her head, brushing imaginary dirt from her sleeve, "You always were melodramatic, Evan. Be careful you don't transmit too much of it to Tess, if he hasn't overdosed on it already."

"All right, Rose. I get the idea."

Rose was already waiting in the employee lounge as the clock struck five. She stood at the window, adjusting her starched shirt cuffs so that they peeked out from under her jacket sleeves, just the way she liked them. It had been a long time since she had last worn this uniform, and in truth she preferred it to the black one she wore day to day.

Midgar's darkness could be useful occasionally. She found herself thinking this, checking her reflection in the window. Satisfied, she zipped up her jacket and strode over to the Turk's bench where her Sniper CR was waiting.

Out on assignment and with a sniper rifle. Was it her birthday? It felt good to be doing what she had trained to do. It felt strange thinking about it. For once she was doing something for herself on the record without a whining brat hanging on her sleeve. This had to be done perfectly.

Suddenly torn up with nerves, she paced across the room, halting in front of the 'Wall of shame'. Looking up at it she found it strange to think that there was once just one or two photographs framed up there.

All in all there were eighteen names up there, only two of them without photographs. That really didn't say much for her line of work, but casualties were to be expected. 'All in a day's work' Trey had said once, reminiscing about his time with the Company and how lucky he was to leave with his life, and undamaged.

Every time she was in the lounge she stopped to pay her respects to the wall and its residents. Some of the photographs got a nod when she met their gazes, three got salutes. Browsing the pictures today she found the one she respected the most, staring shyly out into the room beside the much more bubbly picture of Marlon James Kennedy.

Vincent Valentine was renowned as the best marksman Shinra had seen, and thus deserved respect. Rose kept it secret, but she aspired to be as good a shot as he has been, maybe even better. It paid to aim for something in life. It kept you working toward something. She was a good shot by any standards, but not quite up there with Vincent. Not that she would want to be up there with him, seeing as he was dead and not able to get out of that predicament.

He was marked as missing in action, as was Marlon. To this day nobody knew exactly what had happened in the original 'Nibelheim incident'. On more than one occasion Rose had grilled Hojo about it, frustrating him while he tried to record her statistics, or take blood. He always maintained that he had no idea what happened, that the whole thing was a mystery. She had her doubts, finding it hard not to notice how Hojo danced around the subject, started off cool as a cucumber and ended up shouting that he didn't know.

"Setting up clear targets, the Shinra way." She looked round to see Evan and Tessi standing beside the stairs, the former looking upset by his own statement, the latter tugging at his cuffs like some impudent child, uncomfortable in his Sunday best.

"Blue was never my colour." He proclaimed, giving up and slouching.

Rose picked up her rifle from the table and wandered over to them. "We all clear on what we're doing?" Evan and Tessi nodded their answer. "Right. Evan?"

"Move out."

Time ticked by, doing that stupid backwards forwards backwards thing clocks did when you wanted time to fly, Tessi imagined, walking down the street and swinging his nunchucks. He felt better just having them in his hand, warning off the civilians that looked at him cock-eyed. If they were planning something, they soon forgot it, turning their heads to stare straight ahead and ignore the Turk prancing along like a fairy of some sort.

Tessi had to chuckle, prancing a little higher. So what if he wanted to prance? Who's reputation was it on the line anyway? Not his. As far as the general public were concerned, he didn't exist. That was a great feeling. Once this thing was done, he could just melt back into official non-existence and go about his daily business without his weapon to hand.

Thinking about it just made him want it all the more. It was a pain when you wanted something you knew you had to wait for. Determined to get his mind off it, he unclipped his radio from his belt and tuned it to Rose's frequency. "Hello there. What's black and blue and red on top?"

"Tess," Rose's voice came back to him, "I don't care."

"Me in uniform falling down stairs. What are you up to?"

"Waiting. Keeping my eyes open. Doing what you should be. So do it." She switched her radio off, Tessi's one picking up nothing but static in response.

He looked at it, "Fair enough." and put it back on his belt. If Rose was going to be moody, then he didn't want to talk to her anyway.

Halting beside the theatre, he fell back to lean against the wall. Walking round and round the sector was boring. It would be so much easier if he could find somewhere to sit and keep watch. This thought bouncing back and forth in his brain, his eyes settled on the clock tower across the street. Now that would be perfect...

Rose peered over the railings at the alleyway below, narrowing her eyes to see into the gloom. There didn't appear to be anyone around, just her and the SOLDIERs. They ignored her, standing in a closed group, talking amongst themselves. She didn't care; they were welcome to forget she existed if they wanted.

Groaning, she circled her shoulder, grimacing at the stiffness in it. Evan had been able to fix it easily, but that stiffness refused to go away. As long as she didn't need to use her pistols it would be fine.

A spot of rain landed on the back of her hand. 'Great.' She thought, looking up. 'Not only am I stuck out here with these antisocial nitwits, heaven's going to piss on me too.' Could the day get any worse?

The three of them had been on duty about two hours when it happened. Rose idled at the alley entrance, staring up at the clouds massing over the houses. She frowned, a low rumbling reaching her from off towards the Northern continent. There was thunder on its way? That would make standing on the sister ray all the more fun.

Her radio crackled to life suddenly, Evan's static shadowed voice making her jump. "Rose!" She snatched it from her belt and pressed the talk button,

"Evan? Is everything all right?"

"No, Rose, not at all. I have just received a call from Headquarters. We are on alert. "

"Why?" AVALANCHE had announced their presence?

"There was some major seismic activity in the north. Satellites have picked up something big heading this way through the sea. They think it's Weapon."

"Weapon?" Rose almost dropped her radio, "It's coming for Midgar?"

"So it would appear."

This was bad. "Orders?"

"I'm on my way back to headquarters. Where are you?"

"At the sister ray."

"Take cover somewhere. Get to Headquarters as soon as you can. Evan out."

Rose stood still, staring at her radio. Weapon was on it's way, Evan seemed to be lacking his usual judgement and she had to abandon her post. Suddenly the rain didn't seem all that bad.

Without thinking she started along the street to climb down into the train tunnels. Tessi sprung to mind as she clambered down onto the tracks, his being in sector one not a good thing. There were very few places to shelter there, besides the open of course. Her stupidity caught up to her. Of all the places to go, the train tunnels was possibly the most stupid. Did she want to be buried alive?

"Rose?" Tessi's voice reached her over her radio. She answered him,

"Tess? Where are you?"

"The clock tower opposite Goblins. Rose, you are not going to believe this."

"What?"

"Weapon, it's out on the plains."

Worry gripped her, "Tess, for God's sake get down from there!"

"No, no. This is the best part. Cloud's out there too. I think he's going to take it on."

"Excuse me, what?"

"He is! The moron's got his sword out. He's going to fight Weapon!"

Rose started, looking at her radio in disbelief of what she was hearing. "Tess, you had better not be lying-"

"Wait a minute. There's two of his pals there too. Looks like Barret and some little guy. No sorry, I think it's a chick."

"I wish I could see what you're seeing, but get out of that tower, for crying out loud! Find somewhere safe before you get killed. There's a large play park two streets from there. I suggest you find it." She switched her radio off, not giving Tessi the chance to argue or interest her further with what he could see. He had better be all right or there would be trouble. The senselessness of that thought didn't register, Rose glancing into the gloomy tunnel ahead. She could get to Headquarters from here.

Evan had told her to get there as soon as she could; if AVALANCHE were distracting Weapon, then now was the time to make a run for it.

"Fuckin' moron." Tessi murmured to himself, peeking at Cloud through his binoculars. So, blondie boy had worked out that magic was more effective than weaponry? Good call for him.

It turned out the little guy with him _was _a chick. She just had short hair and no boobs. Tessi frowned, watching her cast ultima. She used a shuriken? He didn't know AVALANCHE had picked up a ninja on their travels. It would be interesting to fight her. If, of course, she didn't get fried or stamped on by Weapon.

Kudos to Cloud and Captain planet out there for taking something that size on. If roles were reversed, Tessi knew that he would be hiding behind that rock.

He shook his head, dropping his binoculars to hang around his neck. He had lingered long enough. Rose had sounded worried about him, and he didn't particularly want to die, so he hopped over the clock tower guard rail onto the ladder and slid down to the ground.

The sector was in turmoil, Midgar's citizens running for cover in blind panic. Tessi cleared his throat, dusting himself down and starting on his way at a leisurely walk towards the local playground.

Rose ground to a halt in front of the Shinra building, bending double to catch her breath. She had never run so fast in her life, and it looked as though her exertion had paid off. She just had to pray Tessi had listened to her for the first time in his life. He had to be safe...

She froze, a low humming catching her ear, metal grating on metal above. Unnerved, she looked up, stepping back to stare at the Sister ray. Why was it humming?

Her radio crackled, interference getting through from somewhere. A cold feeling manifested itself in the pit of her stomach, forcing her to step back further, each step taking her away from the entrance to the Shinra building.

An explosion behind forced her to look round. Green vapour burst out the top of the number two reactor, closely followed by the numbers three, four, five, six, seven and eight. Rose croaked in surprise, looking up at the cannon. Was this supposed to happen?

Her heart skipped a beat as the street lamps went out, leaving her in darkness. The silence was eerie, seemingly everyone in the city stopping and staring at the Sister ray. What had Scarlet created?

The lights flicked back on, crackling noisily in their glass shades, Rose gasping in surprise and throwing her hands over her ears as the Sister ray pulled back and fired. Every window in the Shinra building shattered, cascading glass down in a hail of debris, straight towards the main entrance and Rose.

She ran for the doors, the first shards of glass hitting the ground behind her and splintering in all directions. Rose found herself falling, pain searing through her heel. She hit the ground hard, covering her ears against the deafening crash of glass all around her.

Warm blood pooled in her boot, soaking through her sock. Her whole left leg burned. She moved to look round at it, screaming suddenly as glass sliced her forehead and nose, hitting the ground and throwing splinters into her hands.

Blood was trickling down her face and into her mouth. It was strange, but she found herself thinking about something her father used to say. He was wrong, blood certainly did not taste like strawberry jam. She shook her head gently, laying it on the ground, glad of the relief brought by cold concrete.

What were Evan and Tessi doing now? Were they safe? Faring better than she was in this crisis? It felt like everybody was doing better than her right then.

It took a moment for her to realise the glass had stopped falling. Grimacing, she lifted her head, finding a small patch of blood where her forehead had rested.

"He's on his way."

Rose looked up, finding Hojo standing over her, watching her over his glasses. "Wha... What?"

"Valentine. He'll be heading here with his new friends, to deal with his old friends. He can't avoid a chance to be a goody goody recently."

"I don't understand."

Hojo sighed, adjusting his glasses thoughtfully. "You always asked about him, wanted to see him for yourself. Now's your chance."

Rose was silent, Hojo leaving her to her own devices and walking off down the steps. She had no idea what he meant, but realised that she had to do something with herself, find some kind of medical attention.

With some difficulty she started to crawl towards the doors, reaching up and taking hold of the handle. Crying out, Rose pulled herself to stand, immediately taking her weight off her injured leg. She could see it now, red and pink peering back up at her from between shreds of dark blue material. The heel of her ankle boot had been ripped open, blood running out of there in alarming quantities.

There was no time to think about it now. She just had to favour it and find someone who could help her, preferably Evan.

Please let Rose and Tessi be all right. That was all Evan wanted, running down flight after flight of stairs. Neither of them were answering him. Whether they were just out of range or too busy, he couldn't be sure. There was always the possibility that they could be hurt.

He didn't want to think about that. They were both skilled Turks, able to look after themselves. They would be fine.

He took the elevator down to reception, stepping out beside the shop. The acid test would be if Rose had made it. If she was waiting for him down there, then everything would be all right. When Tessi called in, his world would be right again.

Evan's step faltered, his foot almost missing the next stair. Rose was in reception, leaning against the doors. She looked awful, pouring blood from every visible patch of skin. He broke into a run, reaching the floor as an explosion rocked the building.

Rose tottered on her feet, her injured heel not supporting her weight, leaving her to collapse. Evan started towards her, halting in his tracks to see more debris falling outside, landing in a heap of screeching, twisted metal on the other side of the door.

"Evan." Rose was looking at him, swaying back and forth as she struggled to sit upright.

"Oh God, Rose." He helped her up, supporting her over to the staircase to sit. "What happened?"

"The Sister ray. I'm fine. Where's Tess?"

"Don't be ridiculous! Look at you."

"Where's Tess?"

Evan hesitated, seeing her in such a state, but he had to tell her the truth. "I don't know."

"What was that explosion just now?"

"I don't know." He didn't know anything, and he hated himself for it.

"It sounded like it was above. Find out."

"Rose-"

"I'll be fine. Go and find out."

Though he was reluctant to leave her, Evan did as he was told, trailing away past her up the stairs. "Keep trying Tess." He instructed her as he went, "If you can't get him on radio, try his phone."

Rose breathed out hard, taking her radio from her belt and laying it on the step beside her. Before she tried Tessi, there was something she had to do. Drawing her knife, she cut away the left leg of her uniform, dropping the blade to the ground with a clatter at what she found.

Her skin was slashed and lacerated almost beyond recognition. Splinters of glass had embedded themselves in her muscle tissue and her kneecap had split, more glass stuck in there. She decided against cutting off her boot, fearful of what she would find.

Laying her head against the banister, she closed her eyes. Everything hurt so much, it was all she could do to take her mind off it; let her imagination run wild. She was shocked out of it by her PHS vibrating in her pocket.

Tessi's name came up on the display. "Tess?"

"Rose? You sound nasty."

"Thank you. Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I did what you suggested and went to the playground." He chuckled, "I'm sitting on a swing, looking at the sky, and there are some kids playing with my nunchucks."

"Sounds Painful."

"Where's Evan?"

"He's fine and with me."

Rose frowned, shaking her PHS hard. Tessi was breaking up. With a sigh she flipped it closed, dropping it on the stair beside her radio. At least Tessi was all right. He must have a lucky plus on him or something.

"Did you get hold of Tess?" Evan asked, walking down the stairs and taking a seat beside Rose. She nodded,

"Yeah. He's fine." She shifted her weight, looking round at him, "What happened up there?"

Evan shook his head wearily, "Weapon must have retaliated. The seventieth and sixty-ninth floor are wrecked. Rufus is dead. Reeve is locked in the Science department and Scarlet and Heidegger are nowhere to be seen."

"An average day at the office then?" Rose shrugged her slight shoulders, remembering her leg suddenly, "What about the medical bay?"

"I already thought of that. The place is trashed. Looks like someone looted it. There's nothing left. I couldn't even find anything to stitch your face with. We're going to have to go to Junon."

"What about Tess? I lost the signal with his phone,and he's out of range."

"We'll work something out and get him over to Junon somehow. For now, it's you I'm worried about."

Rose said nothing to that. There was no denying it, she needed help this time.

(NOTE: A long chapter this time around. Montenegro never really happened. We got as far as Italy before monnies ran low. We did cross nine countries (including Wales and England) though. These last two chapters were lumped together without a past break in between because of the length. If I put them both as one chapter, they would have been ridiculously long. No fear, more Vinny next chapter. The real action's going to begin from here on. A little something about the chain of command with Evan, Rose and Tessi. Evan is the boss, but the three of them don't really define it like that. He's always the one to give the go ahead, but the other two will ask if everybody's clear on things and give orders in battle when necessary.)


	14. Chapter 14

_Blood 14: _

_Dangerous liason_

_Though he had resisted this temptation for near a week, he could not hold out any longer, finding himself drawn to the dusty old baby grand piano standing sadly in the corner. Running one finger through the dust, tracing the maker's name, he hesitated, playing a C. Despite being dusty, the piano was in good condition, and in tune, which was a bonus for any pianist. _

_Resigned, Vincent took a seat at the keyboard, "It's been a long time." He said to himself, cracking his knuckles, and wriggling his fingers. Slowly, he began to play. It was a song he had always loved, quiet and almost careful, yet dark. His fingers danced lightly along the ivory keys, the melody remaining steady. His mental sheet music was all that mattered to him while his fingertips connected with the keys. It really had been too long since he had sat at a keyboard. _

_Eventually, he reached the end of the song and improvised, ending in a spirited if not somewhat impromptu glissando. He sighed, shaking his head as he changed his mental sheet music for something a little more lively. His thoughts were interrupted however, by the sound of light applause. He snapped to attention, looking round to see Lucrecia standing in the doorway, a look of surprise on her face. "Lucrecia." He muttered, not daring to make eye contact with her, more than a little embarrassed and curious as to how much she had heard. _

"_That…. That was beautiful." She told him, folding her arms and staring at the ground. He looked almost scared sitting there; she couldn't help but feel that it was something to do with her. _

"_Thank you." _

"_I didn't startle you, did I?" _

"_No, not at all." _

_Hesitantly, she wandered over and took a seat on the stool beside him. They were both silent for some long time, Vincent cursing himself for his shyness, Lucrecia wondering why he was so scared. At last, she looked round at him and said, "Teach me to play something." _

_Vincent was surprised, "What?" _

"_Teach me to play something." She repeated herself. _

_He frowned, "All right. Put your fingers on the keys like this." He laid his fingers on the keys, one to a key for ten keys. She copied him, "This is called the five finger position." He pressed one of the keys lightly, "This is middle C. If you can find middle C you won't ever get lost on a keyboard. Now this is called a glissando." He drew one finger along the keys from top to bottom. _

"_A glissando, right." She did the same, going from top to bottom back to top. _

"_Improvisation. That's good." Though he didn't say it, Vincent was enjoying this. Sharing his music was so much better than enjoying it alone. "This," He played the keys one after another at intervals of one, "is called an arpeggio." Lucrecia watched carefully, secretly enjoying this as much as he was, "And this," He began playing that melody once more, "Is the Nightmare's beginning." _

_Lucrecia listened carefully to the piece, watching Vincent's fingers as they moved over the keys. She tried to memorise each note, but found the speed of a pianist who knew the music so thoroughly was too difficult. Vincent reached the end of the piece, feeling each chord as he played it. "Now you try." _

"_I don't know if I can, you made it look so easy." _

_He ran his fingers up and down the keyboard several times, smiling to himself, "That's because I've been doing this since I was five." _

"_I'll give it a try." She conceded. _

"_All right, follow my lead." He began to play slowly, showing her each note as he played it. She followed along, flushing red as she messed up a few times. "Don't worry, we all make mistakes now and again, you'll get used to it." he assured her. They practised together in silence, Lucrecia smiling as she got the hang of it. She looked round at Vincent to see that he was deep in concentration, the music suddenly getting louder as he found the pedals and lost himself in the melody. Once they reached the end of the piece, Lucrecia turned to Vincent, _

"_Can we play this one more time?" He gave no reply, starting over as she requested. Unsure what to say, Lucrecia kept to recent events. "You know," she began, watching her fingers on the keys, "I've never seen anybody move as fast as those kids did." _

_Vincent frowned at that, hiding a smile. "They weren't prepared to tussle with me, I suppose." _

"_What did you say to them?" _

"_Nothing much. Just threatened to bring legal action against them for trespassing on private property." Lucrecia stopped playing at that, looking round at him with a grin, _

"_You didn't?" _

"_I did." His seriousness was too much for her, Lucrecia creasing up with laughter at the image of him pointing out clauses to four adolescent boys. 'I trust you know a good lawyer. I represent myself.' _

_Vincent looked at her, not quite sure what she found so funny, but whatever it was, he liked to hear her laugh. At length, she sat up straight, looking round at him and smiling brightly, "Have you ever had a girlfriend, Vincent?" _

_She almost creased up again, the size of his eyes tickling her almost stupid. Was he really that horrified she should ask such a thing? "One or two." He answered the question at least. "When I was younger. My work has been my main area of concentration recently. Why do you ask?" _

_Lucrecia shrugged lightly, playing a glissando. "Just curious." His silence surprised her, drawing her to look round at him once again, "Aren't you going to ask me about my shady past?" _

"_It's not my place to ask a lady about such things." _

"_Aren't you the chivalrous gentleman." _

"_Beg your pardon?" _

_She shook her head, looking up at the ceiling with a smile, "It's nice to meet someone who respects you." Her chuckle confused Vincent, until she spoke again, leaning forward on the keyboard and looking round at him, her cheek resting in her hand, "I can just imagine you on a white charger." _

_He shook his head hard at that, sitting back on the stool. "Not me. I don't like horses." _

"_A chocobo then?" _

"_They peck me. For some reason the things all take an instant dislike to me." _

"_Maybe they formed a club?" Her thoughtful tone made him chuckle Lucrecia giving a satisfied laugh of her own, "So you can laugh. I thought you'd forgotten how." _

"_My laugh is atrocious." He told her, playing a tune, "It's awful." _

"_I've never heard it, so how can I possibly pass judgement?" _

"_Pray you never will. My God, it's awful." _

"_Surely not." She sighed, throwing her arms up to thread her fingers together behind her head. All Vincent had done was make her curious to hear this 'atrocious' laugh of his. Before the experiment was out, she was going to hear it, even if she had to take him by surprise with something even he couldn't resist laughing out loud at. "So, what was your favourite subject at school?" _

_Vincent checked his watch, surprised to see that it was already four o' clock. Had he really been mooching about all afternoon? "What?" He realised suddenly that she had asked him a question. "Oh, I don't know. Why all the sudden questions?" _

"_If you hadn't noticed, Vincent Valentine, I'm trying to get to know you better." _

"_Oh." _

"_If we're going to be spending so much time together, I want to know a little something about you, that way I'll know the man sitting across the table from me, cramming dry toast in his mouth and scanning the papers like some angry bear every morning. I find that far more appealing than seeing a stranger there." _

"_It's not dry. I chase it with coffee." _

"_There, there! That's worse." She got to her feet, throwing her hands up in the air and wandering away a little to prod the dying plant in the corner behind the ballroom doors. "Heart attack juice, that's what coffee is! If there's one thing I know about you Turks, it's that you all have awful lifestyles. You all drink, you all smoke and you all swallow coffee like there's no tomorrow!" _

"_I don't smoke." Vincent retaliated with a lop-sided frown, "I rarely drink and I spend a lot of time in the Company gym. All in all I don't think a little coffee's going to hurt me in the long run." _

"_Ah ha!" Lucrecia cried triumphantly, "I know a little bit more about you, you non-smoker, fitness fanatic Turk." _

"_I would hardly say fitness fanatic." _

"_But you do drink a lot of coffee." _

_He shook his head. "No, I don't" _

"_Then what's that?" She pointed at the mug sitting accusingly on the window seat. _

_Vincent's frown deepened a little. "It _was_ green tea. Now it's empty." Lucrecia faltered, unsure of whether or not she was actually getting on his nerves. After a minute of silence, Vincent's frown fell away to leave a playful smile. "Now who's winding who up?" _

"_You terrible, terrible man!" Lucrecia exclaimed, racing over and twisting his wrist in an unannounced game of peanuts. "If you weren't so cute I would slap you so hard!" _

"_Oh? I'm cute am I?" _

"_In a puppy dog kind of way." _

"_Professor Crescent, I can't help but notice you always liken me to canines." _

"_You're a dog!" _

"_May I ask, how would you know that?" _

_She twisted his wrist a little harder, "Forgetting yourself Mister Valentine?" With seemingly no effort, Vincent twisted out of her grip, pleasantly surprised as she lost her balance and fell into his lap. _

"_What if I am?" _

_Despite her position, Lucrecia was unfazed, looking up into Vincent's face with a curious expression, her arms linked around his neck. "For someone born and raised in Wutai, you speak very fluently." _

"_And how many of us do you know?" _

_A knock at the door forced the two of them to look round. Hojo leant against the frame, rapping his knuckles in his own rhythm against the door. Vincent and Lucrecia were both silent. Hojo cleared his throat, "If this rhythm and blues session is over, I need Lucrecia's help in the laboratory. We need to discuss a few things." Vincent stared blankly back at him, unsure what else to do. Lucrecia slid off his lap to her feet, brushing her lab coat down and starting over to Hojo. _

_She looked back to see Vincent staring at the floor, no doubt embarrassed at getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Once she was done in the lab, she would find him and set things straight. It was the least she could do. _

_Vincent looked up, surprised to see that they had gone, leaving him alone in the dusty ballroom again. He had to do something, and the will to play piano had left him. Another cup of tea. _

(NOTE: More Vinny, as promised. Someone can be a little opportunist, can't they? As for the Vincent from Wutai thing, I don't know why, but I always assumed that he did come from Wutai. I quite like the idea, as he and Yuffie always seem to get on when I write them, not in a Yuffentine way, but good friends. I suppose it gives them some common ground, and Yuffie someone to talk to about the war. Vincent's laugh, yes. He is very quiet in the laughter department throughout FFVII, but there is a rare moment aboard the Highwind where he's pondering, and suddenly starts laughing, and I MEAN laughing. If there was a voice to it, I would put it on a par with Hojo's laugh it's that creepy and weird. Vinny really does have an awful laugh. One more thing: Up until now I didn't realise that anonymous reviews were disabled. I've enabled them now, so drop me a review and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!)


	15. Chapter 15

Blood: 15

Junon

As soon as the chopper landed Evan marched Rose to Junon branch medical bay. He had to stop himself hurling abuse at her for being so stupid and stubborn, insisting on using her own leg to get there when it would have been far more sensible to call for assistance. Stupid girl. Ultimately it was up to her, he supposed. She didn't complain when he took her arm to help her up the stairs out of the lobby.

He found it hard to keep a straight head, the whirlwind of things he had seen walking down the street from the airport enough to churn his stomach into burning knots. The people had gone berserk, smashing cars and looting stores. Low level materia had been strewn across the street outside the bar, and crates of fruit had been dragged outside and overturned. He thanked his lucky stars nobody had tried to take him and Rose on.

Junon branch was almost as much of a mess, the statue in the lobby plastered in paint and bullet holes. SOLDIER had cleared out and the employees were nowhere to be seen. "Evan." Rose collapsed to her knees, holding onto the metal banister, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"That's pain, Rose." He told her. "If you need to be sick, let it go. It'll do you good." She said nothing further, her hand over her mouth as she stared at the floor, just waiting. Evan glanced up the stairs, drumming his fingers against the guard rail. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Hurry back. I don't want to be on my own too long."

Upstairs the corridor walls were covered in profanity and pro AVALANCHE slogans. Somebody had been over enthusiastic with their spray paint. None of that bothered Evan, nothing more than a passing observation of its being there to be made. His problem lay with the office doors. They had been closed and locked. Thankfully his access code worked. That meant the remaining executives back at Midgar had yet to instigate operation "Clean Sweep". Once they did nothing would work properly.

He had to look at it in a positive light. Either Scarlet, Heidegger, Reeve, Hojo and Palmer were all dead, or the situation at Midgar HQ wasn't as bad as it had appeared. For the executives' sake, it had better be the latter.

Inside, the office was intact. All the computers were untouched, a few of them still on, the screens flickering in the darkness. All in all it was quite eerie. Evan set his mind on the task at hand. Rose needed attention. He made for the medical bay.

Thankfully his code worked there also, the door sliding open with an inviting ping. At last, something familiar. He stepped inside. "Freeze!" He snapped round, reflexively going for his Winchester, amending that action, slowly raising his hands into the air. A woman stood at one of the examination tables, blood smeared up her bare arms and all over her apron, a man lying unconscious on the table in front of her, a pair of forceps jutting out of the hole in his chest. She held a shotgun, aimed directly at Evan's head. "What are you doing here?"

As calmly as he could, Evan assessed the situation. She was about his age, her hands trembling as she held the gun. Even so, she seemed quite calm; more angry than anything else, possibly because he had interrupted a life saving operation she appeared to be in the middle of. He frowned, seeing that she wore standard Shinra nurse's uniform.

"My name is Evan Reilly." He introduced himself, "I'm with the Turks." Slowly but surely, he brought one of his arms down and reached inside his jacket, pulling out his ID card and sliding it across the floor to her feet. She picked it up, examining it closely for what seemed like an age, one eye and a shotgun on him.

"All right." She said at last, lowering her gun, "I believe you. I'm nurse Shirley Brann, you can call me Miss or nurse Brann."

"Thank you."

Shirley said nothing more on the subject, tossing her gun onto the nearest chair and getting back to work. "What's the situation?" She asked suddenly, looking up and fixing Evan with her sharp blue eyes.

"Looting and general madness."

"Nothing's changed then."

Evan rubbed his arm, tearing his eyes away from her patient and grounding them on the blood spotted white floor tiles. "I have one of my colleagues with me. We came here after the Weapon attack on Midgar-"

"There was a Weapon attack on Midgar?" She butted in, snapping a piece of cotton between her teeth and threading it through a needle, "That's news to me."

Evan frowned, not convinced that cotton would really work as an internal stitch, but she knew best. "My colleague was injured. I brought her here for treatment."

"Join the queue."

"She needs attention as soon as possible." He pressed, "She has lost a lot of blood and is going into shock."

"Is she walking wounded?"

"Yes."

"Then she can wait." Evan's all too audible sigh annoyed Shirley, the woman looking up at him and barking, "I'm busy. If she's not half dead then she's all right."

"That's ridiculous-"

"Welcome to Junon. There's antiseptic and thread in that cabinet over there. Now bring her up and see what you can do."

---------

He found Rose where he had left her, the poor girl having lost her battle with her guts. "I'm sorry, Evan." She apologised as he helped her up. "I made a mess."

"Sick cleans up, Rose." He assured her, ducking under her arm and supporting her up the stairs.

"Is anybody alive in here?"

"A few people."

She stumbled, Evan shaking his head and picking her up. She had been hopping on one leg, it was about time it gave out. The blood coming from her boot worried him, what could only be described as strange smelling juice accompanying it.

"How many's a few?"

"You, me and a bad tempered nurse."

"That's it?"

He shook his head. "I think there's some bed ridden people too, I didn't really make it priority to count. There was a shotgun pointed at my head." Rose said nothing in response, falling unconscious, her head lolling against his shoulder. "Please God, let Tessi be all right."

Rose was getting heavy by the time he made it to the medical bay. Shirley was still working on her chest wound patient when he walked in, Rose in his arms. She looked up briefly, a needle in her teeth, "That her?" Evan nodded his answer. The nurse looked at her a moment, raising her eyebrows and going back to work. "Shame. She would have been pretty."

"She was." Evan tore his eyes away from the gaping wound on Rose's face, taking her over to one of the beds and lying her down. Straightening, he rubbed the small of his back, looking along the line of beds. There were only four in total, two of them already occupied. One was a mess, the sheets stained with blood, the man lying in it almost completely bandaged from his head down. "Knife attack." Shirley informed him, glancing up to see him gawking. "Nasty business."

He said nothing, his attention grabbed by the man in the farthest bed. There was no mistaking him, the smooth, dark hair, the birthmark on his forehead. "Tseng." He said aloud, standing there and staring dumbly at the unconscious male Turk. Why should he be surprised? Tseng had been brought to Junon because it was quieter, better for him to recuperate. Midgar was so busy, it would do him no good where there was little time for personal attention.

"He's sedated." Shirley explained. "Sleep helps healing and blocks out pain."

"Right."

"Are you going to help this girl?" Shirley walked past him, apparently finished operating and closing up her own patient. She rooted through the cabinet, Evan watching her with a vacant expression. For some reason he didn't feel much like doing anything. "Do me a favour and put that man to bed. Carefully. I've been working on him for four hours. I don't want him dying on me now and wasting my time."

Evan did as he was told, picking up the unconscious man and struggling under his weight, but managing to get him over to the bed beside Rose and put him under the covers. "I think I just put my back out for good." He muttered, rubbing it tenderly. "Where are all the crash trolleys?"

"Where are all everything? I'm running so low on supplies that I have to use cotton for stitches. I'm the only one left here, and even with that cattle blaster I'm only one woman."

She took a bottle of iodine and some cotton wool out of the cabinet, tucking them under her arm and heading over to Rose. "Out cold." Evan remained silent, Shirley's mutterings probably her way of focusing. "You," she called to him, "Evan or whatever your name is, take these and get cleaning that wound on her face. Be careful not to move it too much. I know it's not all that important, but a woman's looks are sometimes all she has. If we can save her from scarring too badly, then we can try. In the end I suppose staying alive is more important."

He did as he was told, keeping an eye on what Shirley was doing out the corner of his eye. She appeared to be examining Rose's torn boot. Without a word, she drew Rose's knife from her belt and began cutting the boot off.

Evan turned his attention back to her face, taking care not to move the edges of her wound too much, but conscious that he had to get the dirt out of it. Shirley was happy not to speak to him, well aware that doing so could cause him to make a mistake. The poor man was obviously shaken. She ought to ensure he wasn't suffering from shock or about to, but Rose was in more need of her skills at that point.

She cut Rose's boot free, throwing it aside and examining her heel closely. "Her Achilles tendon's severed. Right through. You said she was walking wounded."

"She was only using one leg, but she was getting about."

Rose began murmuring, her words meaning little to Evan. He didn't try and understand her, realising after a minute that she was speaking Wutaiese. Shirley looked at her, pinching her blonde eyebrows together, "She's Wutaiese?"

"No. She speaks the language."

"Right. I think I have a Hi-potion around somewhere. There was a small stash of them. You stay with her."

Evan sighed, Shirley leaving the room and him alone with Rose, cleaning her face. "Look at you. Out of the three of us, you were the best suited to the field and look at you. I suppose you were in the wrong place at the wrong time." He tore a new piece of cotton wool off the roll, dousing it in iodine. "I wonder where Tess is, and if he's all right. You said he was fine, I know, but if Midgar has gone to hell the way this place has, then I feel we may never find him, or, best case scenario, find him wheeled in here in a worse state than you." Rose still murmured unknown words, turning her head away from him. "I don't know how much more of this I can take. I planned to give up and retire this year, but I think that's out."

"There're only a few of these left." Shirley marched back in, examining the green bottle closely. I know it's not a long term solution, but it should heal her tendon at least."

"Isn't there any materia?"

She scoffed at that, twisting the cap off the potion and shoving Evan out the way with her backside." Materia? Here? This place was almost picked clean a few days ago. You think it's a mess now? It's a better state now than it was after the Weapon attack." Carefully, she tilted Rose's head back and got her to swallow a few mouthfuls of hi-potion. At once her wounds began to close, with the exception of her face.

Evan watched, a little puzzled as to why that one stood out so much. "The nerve endings are dead." Shirley explained. "This Hi-potion's too weak to revive enough of them to close it. Potions work by stimulating the nerves to close the wounds, and the platelets to seal them. After that it's up to nature." She threaded a needle and started on Rose's face. "Stronger potions speed the healing process up faster than weak ones. We're all out of Xs I'm afraid, so she will have to do the rest on her own." Looking up from her work, she hesitated, "It is only you two?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

Evan said nothing, walking over to the windows to glare up at Meteor. Tessi wasn't dead. He was still alive in the turmoil that was Midgar, and Reno and Rude and Elena – they were fine too. They had to be. Tessi, now there was no doubt about that. He could handle himself anywhere, let alone Midgar. He would be fine. He just had to be.

---------

The dust was choking. All the lights had failed and there were things... squelching underfoot. Tessi shook his head, his hand and sleeve clamped over his nose and mouth. He did not want to be there. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to get out, 'what are you doing! You can't go in there!' his limbs screamed at him, but he forced himself to ignore them. What did limbs and extremities know anyway?

The seventieth floor was blocked off, the elevators out of service and the stairway collapsed. If anyone had been up there, they would be trapped now, or worse. Resigned to the fact that he was not about to go poking around up there, Tessi turned and headed back down the stairs. So far the only keycard protected floor he hadn't checked thoroughly was the Science department.

Rescue crews were on their way up, but he had to do something himself, not just sit around waiting while he could be saving lives. Doing nothing would weight heavily on his conscience. He slipped, only just keeping his footing on the stairs, but grabbing the banister anyway. A water pipe had broken and was now running down the steps. 'Probably trying to get out of here before it collapses on us.'

Shaking himself down, he continued to the Science department.

The situation wasn't so dire there, the lights off, but the doors working fine. After a quick scan of the labs and storerooms, Tessi came up with nothing, making for the cells. Hojo's monsters were loose, but not really causing any problems. Tessi reasoned that they were probably terrified of what was going on around them. He knew he was. They had happily mauled a few of the Scientists to bloody pulps, but then, they probably had reason.

Stepping over one such mess, Tessi walked into the cell block. To his surprise, all the doors were open. Except one. "Odd."

Reeve sat up, shocked awake by the voice. He quickly got to his feet and crossed to the door. "Tessi?" He was more than a little surprised to find the youngster there, and looking so healthy. "What's going on?"

"The place is a mess and everyone's fleeing the building like rats from a sinking ship." It suddenly occurred to Tessi that something wasn't right with the situation. "What you doing in there?"

"Scarlet and Heidegger locked me in here. Where are they?"

"Fuck knows. Why'd they lock you up?"

"Because-" Reeve faltered, not quite sure how to go about explaining why. "because I've been acting as a double agent for AVALANCHE. I know how that sounds, and I can imagine you don't exactly feel compelled to help me out, but, if you would be so kind?"

Tessi shrugged, punching his personal code into the keypad below the card reader beside Reeve's cell. The door opened, much to their joint relief. "Thank you."

"No probs, but you better come with me and find somewhere safe. I need to contact Evan and find out where he is."

There were no complaints on Reeve's part, the Urban Development head quite happy to follow Tessi out of Hojo's freak factory. Tessi halted at the top of the stairs. "Any idea where will be safe in this mess?"

Reeve thought a minute, cradling his chin in his hand. "I have a fair idea. We need to get away from this building, and the Sister ray, so I would say the slums."

"Slums it it then."

"Can we make a detour? There's something I want to pick up from my locker in the gym."

(NOTE: Blood, blood, lots of blood. I'm just getting started on the blood and horrific injuries. Rose is in a bad way; thank Goodness for potions. Good thing magic exists in their world. Can't blame her for dragging her leg. Reeve's on board too! You gotta love Reeve, He has one of the coolest voices in AC, and it's nice to know what he looks like finally. Can anyone guess what's in his gym locker that he's after? And why?)


	16. Chapter 16

Blood: 16

Trey's back

Trey idled at the doorway, chewing on a half dead chicken wishbone. The baby sitter stood in front of him, oblivious to his impatience as she scanned the list. "So I have to put him to bed before one?" She raised both eyebrows in surprise, looking up at Trey, "Isn't that a little late?"

He exhailed sharply, taking the wishbone out of his mouth and pointing it at her accusingly, "Are you questioning the list?"

"No, Mr Henson. It just seems a little-"

"You are questioning the list, aren't you." She opened her mouth to say something, cut off short, "No questioning the list. You question the list, you question the man, and you question the man, that's you questioning me, therefore you implying that I'm an unfit parent. You're not implying that, are you, Annie?"

"No. Not at all, Mr Henson."

Trey relaxed at that, sticking the wishbone between his teeth and picking out any remaining pieces of chicken. "Good. Because if you were I'd have to kick your scrawny little ass." Annie nodded respectfully, looking over the list one more time. Trey sighed, standing straight and scratching his backside, "Look. Just makes sure he brushes his teeth. If he does that, then you can choose the best way to deal with him. Convince him to eat salad for dinner and I'll pay you extra."

"What time will you be back?"

"I dunno. Can you stay all night?"

"That will cost you extra."

He frowned, not a little annoyed at her answer, but more impressed by her front. She knew what he used to do for a living, and she had the guts to push him. 'Brave little minx.' "All right, but no more extra charges or you're out of a job."

If she said anything else, he didn't hear it, taking his favourite orange waistcoat from the peg on the hallway wall, and swinging it on. "If you're gonna smoke, do it outside."

"I don't-"

"Gimme a break, kid. I can smell it on my easy chair every time you baby sit."

"Yes, Sir."

He nodded, patting himself down. A jingle behind led him to look round and see his keys dangling from Annie's finger. He smiled, snatching them, tossing them up in the air, catching them behind his back and swinging them around one index finger. "Annie, if you were ten years older and a non-smoker, I'd marry you in an instant."

"I'm over the age." She called after him, stopping him in the doorway. Trey winced,

"I didn't hear that." He retreated, closing the door and standing dumbly in the hallway, rubbing his forehead. Trey Henson made it a rule not to sleep with the hired help. 'Except the housekeeper, but she's Costa and can match me move for move. That's a rare thing to find in Midgar. What's wrong with a taste of home?' Shaking his head hard, he started on his way down the stairs.

He had to get his head on straight. Events were catching up with him, and that left him feeling drained and tired. Not only had he been forced to retire because of Reno, the little guy had been sick recently, first with whooping cough, then a bout of flu. There was only so much a man could learn from a book, and only so much you could read while pacing back and forth with a coughing baby over your shoulder.

Glancing back over his shoulder at the door, Trey huffed, and began thumbing through his keys, 'Poor little mite better be all right. He was a bit hot when I checked him ten minutes ago.' He forced Reno to the back of his mind, reminding himself that this was his time. After a week in and out of doctor's surgeries and frantic phone calls. Dammed kid, causing so much trouble.

He dug in his waistcoat pocket for a cigarette, searching his chocobo illustrated lighter out of his hip pocket. The stairwell winding up through the apartment block was surprisingly clean compared to the ones in neighbouring apartment blocks. Seeing as he didn't pay rent, he had to admit that he had struck it lucky. Being a Turk had its advantages.

"Good evening, Trey." He looked round to see Bill, from apartment 202 putting his rubbish out. "Where are you off to tonight?"

"None of your fucking business."

"That's not a nice thing to say."

Trey growled, taking a long drag on his cigarette and blowing the smoke at his enemy, "I'm not a very nice person."

"You smoke far too much, Trey."

"Nicely noticed. Thank God for you. If only the rest of humanity was as astute."

As always, Bill appeared immune to Trey's prickliness, continuing in his task and wishing him a good night. Trey murmured something incoherent, shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking off towards the underground garage.

Some people just had no idea when to shut up. They should learn. Quickly.

---------

As always, Lilly was waiting for him, looking good in his designated parking space. He ran his hands over her shiny surface, taking a minute to admire her, before throwing his leg over to sit astride her and twist the throttle. He always had to do that, though he had no idea why.

Some interfering old bitch at the super market had told him that he would have to get rid of her and buy a car now that he had a kid. She had been told where to go and what to do with her stupid theories. Lilly was good enough for him before Reno, she was good enough for him now. If big-titted old women insisted on sticking their noses in where they weren't wanted, they should expect to get insulted, and possibly kicked up the arse.

"Stupid old fag." Trey muttered, sticking the key into the ignition and twisting it. Lilly roared to life, her seven fifty cc engine music to Trey's ears. He had loved motorcycles for as long as he could remember. That was one of the reasons he had been forgotten by his family. Personally, he thought it was funny to see the local police chief's bike in flames in the evening surf. Unfortunately his father had taken a dim view of such a hilarious event and told him 'this is the final straw.' Thus he found himself house hunting in Midgar. "Not funny my ass!"

Pissed off, he pulled the clutch in, rocked Lilly forward off her stands and nudged her into first gear. If his pa didn't want to give him a chance, then screw him. Screw everybody! He rung the throttle, throwing his weight back and dropping the clutch, Lilly's front wheel coming up off the floor in response.

She sped off, front wheel meeting ground at the exit ramp, almost coming down on top of Bill. He was not too happy, dropping his chamois leather and shouting after Trey, "You reckless Ex-Turk sonnuvabitch!"

Trey snorted, lowering his head and muttering "Better than a malcontent suburbanite cunt." before twisting Lilly's throttle and forgetting to flick the indicator switch right.

Truth was, he had no plans that evening; just wanted to get out and see what he could see, possibly pay Marlon a visit and get drunk. Stay the night on his friend's sofa and ride home bleary-eyed in the morning. No more chance-taking drunk riding. Reno put a stop to that just by being there. If there was a plan, it was just to ride around until something interesting happened upon him.

---------

He had been riding around for nearing an hour, and had pulled up to some traffic lights at a junction on the outskirts of sector four when a man pulled up beside him on a red motorcycle. Trey cocked an eye at it, nodding his appreciation. "Nice."

His fellow rider returned the nod, but said nothing, wheeling forward a little as his friends halted beside him on identical bikes. Trey smiled, inexplicably glad to see a bike gang. It had been a while since he had seen men together on bikes. Shinra had been cracking down on crime recently, branching out into another line of business. Public security sounded like fun, and had the potential to bring in more money.

The lights turned green and the cars began to move off. Trey cleared his throat, nudging Lilly into gear and moving off, his fellow bikers catching his eye in the mirror as they moved into lane behind him. Must be holidaymakers or something, having to weave between lanes like that.

They were quickly forgotten, the idiot driving the car in front slamming his brakes on and almost getting a motorcycle up his backside. Trey slammed his brakes on, skidding sideways and somehow detaching himself from Lilly, sitting up to see that she rested exhaust pipe against lamp post.

Without a word, he got to his feet and stalked over to her, picked her up and rocked her forward onto her centre stands, his blood boiling to see the gear selector bent out of shape and a long, silver scratch splitting the shiny black paint of her petrol tank. This was it. Trey Henson had officially reached the end of his tether.

Holding in his outraged screech, he snatched his nail bat from the modified pannier at Lilly's back. The moron in the car had to be about fifty years old, and pretty nervous at what had just happened. He could see Trey in his rear view mirror, and he seemed all right, picking up his bike and standing it next to the lamppost, but it was the right thing to do just to get out and ask.

The windscreen shattered suddenly, throwing slivers of glass all over him. Trey was by no means done there, shaking the glass off his nail bat and winding up a swing into the passenger side door. Still silent, Trey shouldered his bat and wandered back to Lilly, threw his leg over her and sped off round the distressed car, still holding his nail bat in one hand.

Scratched. That would take professional surgery to right. He shook his head, stopping at the next set of lights and turning to put his weapon away. Lilly was more than just a bike; she was a limited edition 1940's Zemzelett. A classic, and a bitch to find parts for. Trey's head began to hurt just thinking about fixing that scratch. How could something so tiny cause so much trouble. "Why the hell am I asking myself that?" He said aloud, Reno springing to mind.

He snapped to attention, looking round suddenly at the familiar bikers halting beside him. "We have got to stop meeting like this." None of them said anything in response. Trey shook his head, resolving to ignore them it they were going to ignore him. The lights turned green.

He nudged Lilly into gear, moving to flip the indicator right. Instead he found himself opening the throttle all the way and flipping the catch onto it, something glinting silver catching his eye.

The biker beside him pulled a knife from his boot, swinging for Trey but finding only thin air, looking round to see Trey and Lilly screeching off down the street. A little surprised, he nodded to his two friends and gave chase.

Trey checked his mirror, frowning to see that this wasn't going to be quite so easy as he initially thought. Once again, his automatic reactions had saved his hairy backside. Neglecting to indicate he turned off into a side street. It was a mystery as to why these people wanted him, getting attacked in the street not a usual thing. "I don't pay tax, so that's not it, and I don't need a TV license. I do however steal cable, so that could be it. These things don't happen all the time, why do they happen to me when they do?"

Then again, he had been waiting for something interesting to happen...

---------

'This is strange.' That thought repeated itself in M's mind as he turned onto the side street, finding no sign of Trey. 'Where'd he get to?' Confused, he stopped his bike, J and R pulling to halt beside him. J lifted his visor,

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Oh?" M shot, "What is? Defying orders? Why don't you just go back to Headquarters and put you neck on the block for them!"

"You've seen this guy in action. Back at the warehouse, he was like some kind of... red whirlwind."

"The boss said not to be too worried about this one. Trey's just bad tempered, not particularly skilled or anything."

"And what's your definition of 'particularly skilled'?"

M grunted his answer, moving off away down the street at a crawl. J and R followed.

The street led out onto a market, devoid of any traffic, but packed with people. That made the going even slower for the three MPs. M was lost to his thoughts, 'Look at this place. We stumbled back in time four hundred years. Either that or jumped continent without realising it. So this is where the Costa refugees went.'

The other two seemed to be thinking the same thing, R suddenly muttering something in Costa at an old woman, outraging her. That was none of M's concern. He just had to find Trey and do the deed. It was that or the chopping block.

A roar caught his ear suddenly, blinding white following it before he could act.

J and R stared, Trey and Lilly flying up out of a sunken doorway and delivering a crack to the side of M's head with a piece of 2X4.

Lilly screeched round in a circle. Trey discarding the plank and flipping the catch off her throttle to operate it manually. He nodded to the two uninjured MPs, "You want to play, Let's play!" and zoomed off, just avoiding a woman and her scruffy dog. M got up, picking up his bike and looking back over his shoulder at his colleagues,

"What are ya both sitting there for? Go get 'im!" They didn't need to be told twice, speeding off past their leader.

Trey shot a glance over his shoulder, unable to suppress a smile. Not particularly skilled? He knew who sent them. Bad tempered? He was in a good mood. This evening had just got interesting.

The sporty 1000CCs had no trouble catching up to Lilly, but then, Trey wasn't relying on speed to get him out of this. J and R drew alongside him, neither of them prepared when he slammed his brakes on and skidded to halt sideways, watching them disappear around the bend. "Man, he couldn't send competent minions to kill me?" An engine behind brought him to attention. M was back in the chase. "Uh oh." Lilly leapt forward and sped away, M catching up easily. He was not in a good mood, snatching his knife from his boot and swiping at Trey.

This was getting serious. J and R were back also, on a heading straight for Lily's front wheel. Trey ducked away from M, pulling in Lilly's clutch and slamming on the back brake. She skidded onto her side, Trey drawing his leg up and under himself and ducking his head.

The MPs hit her wheels and took off, landing in skids behind M. Trey threw Lilly up onto her wheels and made for the nearest alleyway. 'Bent something there.' He thought, his beloved girl feeling a little shaky under him. 'More repairs.' M's knife clattered off the wall beside his head. 'Could be worse.'

The alley was narrow and dark. Just what the doctor ordered. Flipping the catch back on the throttle, Trey reached behind and grabbed his nail bat, dumping it in his lap and fishing around in the pannier. Admittedly being able to see what he was doing would have made life easier. He found what he was looking for quickly enough, snatching the leather gloves from under what felt like a mouldering sandwich and slipping them on. No matter how much of a shambles people thought him to be, he always kept a little something on Lilly for emergencies.

He shot a quick glance at his knuckles, finding a lucky plus and a long range on one hand, and fire and lightning glinting on the other. Oh, life was good! With his nail bat ready in one hand, he swung Lilly round in a circle at the end of the alley and waited.

'The moron brothers' (as Trey had mentally christened them) didn't make him wait long, speeding down the alley as though there were no tomorrow. M halted at the sight of Trey, feeling more than a little triumphant over the Ex-Turk, sitting at the end of the alleyway with his trusty nail bat. Really, did he think he could take all three of them on with that primitive thing?

Yup.

J and R waited quietly, neither one as confident as M, but ready on his order none the less. Trey kept a careful eye on them, slowly reaching down and picking up half a red brick from beside a soggy cardboard box.

R frowned, "What's he think he's doing with that?"

Calmly, Trey placed the brick in his lap and twisted the throttle, wringing a roar from Lilly. M looked at his friends, "He wants to play chicken."

"You mean that thing they do in the movies?" J appeared stunned. M nodded.

"That."

"Cool." The three of them revved their bikes.

Trey let go of the clutch suddenly, Lilly darting forward, front wheel lifting off the ground. The moron brothers did the same, their bikes lurching forward, speeding towards Lilly, all four engines echoing in the alley.

Trey made his move, jamming the handle of his nail bat under his knee and hefting the brick in one hand. He threw it, sending it down the alley in a blur and straight into R's visor with a crack. He somersaulted, his bike carrying on without him a few metres before falling over and spinning in a circle, R landing in a broken, twitching heap on the concrete behind.

J looked back, his stomach freezing to see his war buddy in such a state. Seething with rage, he opened the throttle all the way, flying past M and straight for Trey, machete out of boot and in hand.

Trey began to weave from side to side, cracking a smile to see J mimic him. Perfect. No more brick, he snatched his nail bat and wove toward the right hand wall. J followed him, his mouth agape all of a sudden at Trey leaping off Lilly to run along the wall, still holding the handlebars. He didn't know what hit him, Trey's nail bat crashing through the side of his helmet, the rest of him dragged off his bike to hit the wall.

M swerved out the way, slowing down and circling his bike in time to see Trey hop back onto Lilly and do the same. "What happens next?"

M didn't answer, pulling off his helmet and throwing it aside. Trey was impressed, "Well, well, well. If it isn't Mr. Betrayal 1969!" Still no answer was given, M taking a GN4 from his belt. 'Should have seen that, Trey, dude. All that daddy stuff's got you slipping.' Shaking his head clear, Trey concentrated on his right hand. Gasping at his own actions, he charged Lilly down the alley.

Nowhere in the briefing had it said that Trey was a suicidal maniac. M hesitated, unsure what to do. Trey had more sense than that; he had seen the red-head in action on assignment not long ago, and he had thought on his feet the whole time. He had to have something up his sleeve.

'Wish I knew what I was doing. Think, Trey, think!" Up ahead was an old newspaper and a cardboard box. Grinning, Trey sped up, dragging his nail bat along the ground towards the paper.

M panicked, pulling the trigger but missing Trey to hit one of Lilly's forks instead. She shuddered, but kept going. Trey acted, scraping the newspaper up with his bat and tossing it into the air, drawing M's fire. Next up was the cardboard box. He scraped that up also, tossing it up and in front of Lilly, yelling 'home run!' and smacking it down the alleyway, baseball style right into M's face. His mind already half on the materia in his glove, Trey cast a high level fire spell, right on M's fuel pipe.

Though he was sad to see 1000CC of bike go up in smoke, Trey had to watch. M had been asking for it; you should never take an opponent lightly, even if they're reportedly without skill. Chuckling to himself, Trey set his eyes on the road, Lilly cannoning straight into the brick wall at the end of the alley.

(NOTE: I was listening to 'Henrietta' by the Fratellis when I wrote this, so that set the tempo for the chapter. Trey's my favourite original character in this story. He's great fun to write and he's so versatile with his fighting style. He has none. That's what makes him so fun to write. He's a scumbag, and yet I gotta love him. In regards to Reno... he does love him, but at the same time is still getting to grips with the whole responsibility thing. Trey's had thirty-two years of looking out for number one, and Reno's busted in and shattered all the purely selfish things Trey would normally do. He's adjusting, just not very well. I want to take this time to say a big thank you to Just Jill for her reviews. She's really encouraging me with her enjoyment of this story. Thank you!)


	17. Chapter 17

Blood: 17

There ain't nobody here but us chickens

"What are you after?"

Reeve neglected to answer, turning everything out of his gym locker onto the floor, rifling through it with one hand, the other closed around a flashlight. Tessi's patience was wearing thin, the Turk folding his arms and tapping his foot, hoping that would get the message across.

Unfortunately, after years of working with Scarlet and Heidegger, Reeve was an expert at ignoring people. Tessi slammed the locker door shut, "Reeve! What are you looking for!"

"My megaphone. It should be here."

"The hell do you want a frigging megaphone for?"

"We need to get people to the slums. If Meteor's going to come crashing down on top of us, we might as well have something between us and it. Besides-" he tossed a towel Tessi's way, 'The slums have underground tunnels. We can get in those and pray."

"Your confidence inspires me."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

Tessi gave no answer, twisting his hands up in the towel and wandering away a little. Reeve shook his head, resuming his search.

Still there had been no word from Evan or Rose. It was possible they had just been too busy to call, or they were dead. Personally, Tessi preferred to believe the former.

"It's not here." Reeve announced, drawing his attention back to the locker room. "I can only guess that Cait picked it up while I was in jail."

"What, that thing has an autopilot or something?"

"Yes." The look Tessi shot his way made Reeve frown, "I can't sit there controlling him all day. I have a job to work. Besides, it would look strange if I sat in a board meeting fiddling with remote controls, eh?"

"I s'pose." Enough of this. "Once that Meteor's done falling, we're high-tailing it over to Junon where it's safe."

Reeve was disgusted, "What about the people?"

"You have to look out for number one in this world, Reeve. Unfortunately I get paid to look out for you too, so your sorry ass is coming with me to Junon."

"Can't you leave some orders with Reno and co?"

Tessi shook his head, tossing the towel on the floor and folding his arms across his chest. "They take orders from Heidegger. I'm just a teacher. Besides-" He loosened his tie, a look of mild embarrassment crossing his face, "- Reno ran past me in the street on my way here shouting 'there ain't nobody here but us chickens' or something along those lines. Then made for the train tunnels."

"Running away from Weapon? Where were the others?"

"Rude and Elena were on his tail, and I don't know about the babies."

"Great."

"That's what I thought."

A steady beeping interrupted them, Tessi glancing around in surprise before settling on Reeve. "That your watch or something?"

He shook his head, "That's Cait. AVALANCHE conference." Now this could be interesting. Reeve waved his hand at Tessi, directing him to walk away and plug his ears. Reluctantly, he did as he was told.

At times like this he sung the 'na na' song. It always used to get Evan steamed, having a serious conversation with Heidegger down the phone with a trainee singing nonsense in the background. Just thinking about Evan put the idea out of his head and left him sad.

Evan and Rose... They had better be all right. If something had happened to them... He snapped out of it, Reeve's touch on his shoulder making him look round.

The Urban Development head looked thoughtful, holding what appeared to be a remote control in one hand, index finger curled around one of the joysticks. "If we're going to ground we had better do it soon."

Tessi frowned, "Why?"

"I need space to concentrate. Cloud and friends are going after Sephiroth. I'm going to have to game like I've never gamed before."

"I see." Tessi checked his belt, glad to find that he hadn't put anything down and forgotten about it. All equipment present and correct. "If you're done, then let's go."

Reeve showed no resistance, merely twitching an eyebrow as Tessi pulled his nunchucks from his belt and cracked the chain snapping them up into one hand. The situation outside must be worse than he had let on.

Tessi turned to Reeve, "If you think those people out there are going to listen to you, then you're welcome to try and save them. Get it clear though, that I AM NOT going to stand around longer than necessary and risk bodily harm to myself or you."

"That's crystal clear to me." Reeve assured him, walking by and taking the lead towards the stairs.

The rescue crews had been and gone to the upper floors, so the two of them were alone, clambering over toppled walls and downed ceiling in the dark. Tessi still struggled to control himself, the dusty air and closed space shaking him to the bone. He could call no experience to mind which could possibly explain why he was claustrophobic, and truthfully, he was glad. If something had happened to make him fear enclosed spaces, it must have been terrible. He began humming to himself, determined to take his mind off it.

Reeve frowned at his behaviour, but said nothing. Everyone left in the building must be feeling a little unhinged by now, and Tessi was only young, no matter how hard he pretended. 'Not looking forward to facing Sephiroth.' He found himself thinking, slipping on something wet. 'If something goes wrong, I'll live, but the others won't. Admittedly I'll be killed by Meteor, but that's not the point. Feels kind of cowardly, sitting back here and controlling Cait. Feel like I should be there, helping out. Not like I can't handle myself or something. Quite a handy shot when I have to be. Give me an AK and I'm laughing, but... Still feel like I'm copping out.'

"Are you coming?"

Reeve snapped out of it, realising that he had stopped. Tessi looked back at him from atop a pile of rubble, blinking against the flashlight beam. "Don't shine that thing at me. Hurts."

Reeve shook his head. "Sorry."

Tessi offered his hand. "Coming?"

---------

She was still sleeping, lying quietly on her back. Even with the potions her face hadn't healed completely. Evan sighed deeply, shifting his weight in the armchair. Several hours had passed since their arrival in Junon, and Rose was still asleep.

He checked his watch. Quarter to three in the AM. That made it near on twelve hours. Shirley had gone off to forage supplies, content to leave the medical bay in his hands for a short while. She kept coming and going, her longest time out of the building about two hours.

Rose stirred in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent and attempting to roll onto her side. Evan leant forward and pulled the blanket up to her chin, falling back into his chair and drawing his legs up underneath him.

This whole thing was a mess. One big, jumbled mess. How had any of this been allowed to happen? Who in their right mind would give permission for human experimentation? If not for that dammed experiment, none of this would ever have happened. Sephiroth would never have existed, and Vincent and Marlon would still be alive. Possibly. Weapon would never have attacked Midgar, or Junon, Rose wouldn't be in such a state and he wouldn't be sitting there, waiting for Shirley to return and praying that none of the patients arrested. Damn it all, things would be hunky dory and perfect.

Evan shook his head, turning in his chair to lean his head against the arm. It was silly to think the world could ever be perfect. These were just the tired and troubled thoughts of a world weary man. If the world were perfect, his marriage would never have broken, none of his trainees would have died and he would have millions of gil for doing nothing. He would be happy, and that could not be allowed to happen. The world would end if Evan Reilly were ever truly happy. "Look at me," he said aloud to the ceiling, "if Tessi were here he'd tell me to stop angsting. Whatever that means."

"It means that you're in need of a break." Shirley stood at the doorway, her shoulder bag weighing her down.

Evan stood up, "You found supplies?"

"Of course. What do you think I am?" She crossed the room, shoving past him to reach under Rose's bed for a metal chest. "The streets are covered in all sorts of things. I even found some cure materia under the roadside barrier. It's not much, and at such a low level it's only good for superficial wounds, but it's something."

"Hmmmm. I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not that difficult. Just a case of disciplining your brain." She began unloading her bag into the chest, arranging potions and materia in orderly lines and groups. Evan frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets,

"Are you this particular about all your things?"

Shirley looked up at him, a look of despair on her dirty face, "Only things I need to get my hands on in a hurry, like in the event of a life saving operation."

Red faced, Evan turned away, drifting across to the window and opening the shutters. Meteor was still there in the sky above, taunting him. Was any of this worth it? In a few days that thing would crush them all and that would be that.

"Come away from there and close the shutters." Shirley instructed him, getting to her feet and dusting off her knees. "All you're doing is getting depressed looking at that thing. You're not doing yourself any favours."

"What's the point?" Evan snapped suddenly, "All we're doing here is forcing these poor people to hold on a few days until Meteor comes down here and kills them anyway! What's the point of drawing out their suffering like this? It's just plain cruelty in the long run, or are you doing this to keep yourself from going mad?"

Shirley said nothing for some long minutes, eventually turning and walking over to the battered old sofa beside the door, and picking up her shotgun. She looked at it a moment, breathing a sigh and turning and throwing it to Evan, "If that's your view, then put her out of her misery." She pointed to Rose.

Evan hesitated, glancing from the gun in his hands to Rose. She lay on her back still, apparently having failed in rolling onto her side. Put her out of her misery? He threw the shotgun away, Shirley watching it clatter on the tiles and spin underneath a broken crash trolley. Evan shook his head, "This is insane. I can't... I don't have it in me anymore."

"You don't mean what you're saying." Shirley corrected him, "The thing to do in this situation is what you do best. I save lives. You protect your students. That would be her, I'm assuming."

"Once."

"Then do what you do best and hold out for her and yourself."

Evan looked at Rose, nausea hitting him. For a split second there, he had considered killing her. That realisation left him sick to his stomach with himself. He glanced at Shirley, finding that she had forgotten him and was now involved in the wall-mounted cabinet.

Shaky, he crawled back into the armchair beside Rose's bed, and settled for a long stay.


	18. Chapter 18

_Blood: 18_

_Anguish and torture_

_Raining again. All it ever seemed to do in Nibelheim was rain. Vincent bolted down the steps, his jacket over his head on course for the inn. After last night's storm the mansion phone line was down. All messages had to be relayed through the innkeeper, which meant being told headquarters had called and that you had to call back. Not the most efficient system, but it was faster than relaying messages by letter._

_Speaking of letters, he had received one that morning. Just about to open it he was told that an urgent call had come through from Midgar general hospital. So that letter sat unopened in his breast pocket as he rushed to find out what was so urgent back home._

_His jacket soaked through, he open the inn door and darted inside. The innkeeper nodded to him, reaching under the desk and picking up the telephone. "They left contact information." He murmured, taking a piece of paper from his waistcoat pocket and handing it to Vincent. "Didn't sound in very good shape."_

_This did not bode well. The only person Midgar general would contact him over was Marlon, seeing as he was down as emergency contact on his donor card. Why anyone would want Marlon's tar covered organs was beyond him, the thought that something had happened to his friend refusing to leave him as he dialed the number and hung on the receiver._

_A woman answered, "Midgar general hospital, Shinra ward."_

_"Hello? This is Vincent Valentine. I believe you left a message for me about five minutes ago."_

_"Nobody's phoned out this morning. Except for – Oh. Him." She sighed, a strange sound coming from her end, possibly fingers drummed on a table? "Wait a minute. I'll get him."_

_Vincent had to admit, he was more than a little confused. If Marlon was in trouble, then surely the nurses caring for him should be a little more... caring?_

_"Yello?"_

_Vincent knew that voice, and it damn well wasn't Marlon. "Trey? What are you doing in hospital?"_

_"Vinny! Well, there's a funny story about that, but I'll skip to the end and avoid taking up your... precious time. I need Lilly's insurance documents."_

_Vincent felt his face flush red. "What?"_

_"I told you skipping to the end would save time. Now, where can I get them?"_

_"Trey."_

_"All right. All right. She needs some minor repairs."_

_"Why?"_

_"Nothing big, just a fender bender."_

_Nothing was ever small with Trey. "What needs repairs?"_

_"Just the brakes. And the front mudguard. Oh, and the forks."_

_"What! Forks never need minor repairs! Anything to do with them is-"_

_"Talking big bucks. Okay, maybe I exaggerated the minor part a little."_

_This was ridiculous. Vincent rested his forehead in one hand, tightening his grip on the receiver with the other, "What happened? Really?"_

_"I rode her headlong into a brick wall."_

_"I see." His temper was boiling over. He struggled to keep it under control, avoid exploding down the phone at Trey in front of the innkeeper. What would that say about the Turks? "Trey, when I entered into the agreement I thought it was to enjoy Lilly for what she is. Where in the contract does it stipulate that she can climb walls?"_

_"It wasn't-"_

_"Contact Marlon for the insurance details." He took a breath, calming himself somewhat. "Now, what have you done to yourself?"_

_"Well, I broke my arm and twisted my leg further than it's 'sposed to go, but I'm okay. They put me on a spinal board, but that's 'cos I didn't want to go to hospital. They had to restrain me."_

_"All right."_

_"Yeah, I'm fine. Just Lilly that's in bad shape. When I sat up I looked at her and thought 'shit. Vinny's going to kill me', I mean, she was laying there in a twisted heap. They had to put her on a junkyard truck to get her out of there. I tell you, man, she's totaled."_

_"What?"_

_"Not beyond repair of course, just mostly in need of repair. Anyway, I got to go. Nice talking to you, and I'll get better soon as. Byee!" With that, Trey hung up._

_Vincent stared at the receiver, astonished. 'That little bastard.' Lilly was in need of full body repairs? That would tear his insurance apart, then shred the shreds. Trey knew it. 'When I get back to Midgar, if he's still alive, I'll kill him myself.' He looked at the innkeeper, "Thank you." Then left, forgetting about the deluge outside in favour of wandering next door to_ _the item store._


	19. Chapter 19

Blood: 19

Bringing Cid down

Everything was dark, the smell of oil thick in the air. She was bleeding everywhere, that much Cid knew. His lady bled all over the floors he walked on, and without light there was nothing he could do. He was alone as far as he could determine. In the dark he had been unable to find anyone else. Cait Sith lay at the top of the stairs, gutted, wires hanging out of its back. He had tripped over it on the way down.

The chocobo had survived, the poor thing wild-eyed and struggling to get out of its pen. "Calm down, girl." Cid cooed, taking his knife from his boot and slitting the straps holding her in place. "There you go." He leapt out of the way as she struggled up onto the remains of the stable wall and darted off into the dark hallway.

Cid stared into the dark, trying to see which way she went, but losing her at the operations room door. There was no doing with this dark. He had to find Yuffie. She always carried a flashlight on her, and if she wasn't dead, could help him look for the others. If she was dead, then that was a shame, but he still had to get that flashlight from her, get somewhere in this dark.

This situation had to be approached logically. Last he had seen her, she had made for the deck, hot on Vincent's tail. It was highly unlikely they were still on board; when the Highwind went down they were probably thrown clear, but chance could have it that they were nearby. Steeling himself for what he might find, Cid set off, groping his way along the wall to avoid falling into the engine. God knows he would never get out of there.

Outside the situation wasn't much better. He already knew the Highwind was on a slant, but the night and drizzle made it all the more difficult to keep a footing on the slippery deck boards. He slid, hitting the guard rail hard and losing his wind. 'Things could be worse.' He thought to himself, booting the rope ladder off the deck to hang down the last few meters to the ground. 'I could be dead.'

Debris and chunks of hot metal littered the ground around the Highwind's hull, the flaming wood affording some light in the pitch black. Coughing the dust out of his sore throat, Cid called, "Vincent!" No reply came to him. "Yuffie!" Still no reply, but it was worth checking. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started out onto the plains.

It was lonely out there, Cid shivering against feeling so alone. Even working on the rocket he hadn't felt so alone. The Highwind was dead, as were many of the people aboard, he supposed. "Dammit." He said to himself, more to dispel cold feelings than voice a feeling.

He had strayed about forty meters from Highwind's hull when he heard a gentle sobbing. Taking his lighter from his pocket, he started towards the sobbing, guarding the tiny flame against the rain. Vincent lay on his back in the shadow of a broken propellor, his arms wrapped around Yuffie. She shook him, sobbing hard at the lack of reaction. "Vincent!" He still didn't stir. "Vinny!"

She froze, footsteps behind drawing her attention. "Hello?"

"Yuffie?"

Her spirits lifted at that voice, Cid appearing out of the rain with a lighter. "Old man!"

"Brat."

She squirmed out of Vincent's arms and shot to her feet, running straight to Cid and tackling him around the waist. He stepped back but kept his feet. Yuffie cried happy tears, looking up at him with a relieved smile, "I thought everyone was dead!"

Cid chuckled, peeling her off and putting his hands on his hips. "You think something like that's enough to bring me down? You know who I am? I'm Cid!"

"Yeah, but it took Vincent down."

Cid's smile fell away at that. He pushed past Yuffie and dropped to his knees beside his friend. "This doesn't look good." He remarked, blood running from under Vincent's hair. "He hit his head."

"Yeah. Something whacked him when the tub crashed. He grabbed me, I didn't see what it was."

"Shit."

Yuffie let out a whine, collapsing on the grass beside Cid. "Can't you do something for him?"

"I'm a mechanic, not a doctor." He grabbed the front of Vincent's cape and pulled him up to eye level. "Vincent?" No reaction. "Dammit Vincent!" Still nothing. Annoyed, Cid started shaking him, "Fuckin' hell, Valentine! Answer me you bastard!"

"Cid!" Yuffie grabbed his arm, "You're gonna kill him!"

"If he don't wake up I'll kill him anyway." Grunting in annoyance, Cid slapped Vincent hard, frowning at the reaction he received,

"Lucrecia."

"Fuck you, I'm not Lucrecia."

Vincent's eyelids fluttered, his eyes glowing red in the light from Cid's lighter. Yuffie recoiled, "Uh, doesn't that usually mean he's going to go all wingedy-beasty on us?" Cid shook his head,

"Naw." and flipped his lighter closed, proving his point. "Gimme that flashlight of yours."

"I don't know how much batteries it's got." No matter, the beam strong enough to show Vincent's head wound.

"Holy fucking shit!" Cid exclaimed at the shiny piece of metal jutting out of his friend's scalp. Yuffie jumped to her feet,

"Oh my GAWD!" Her high-pitched screech appeared to wake Vincent up a little, his eyes focusing on Cid.

"Wha...?"

"Nuthin' for you to worry about right now." The blonde lied, glancing at Yuffie for assistance. She started, clasping her hands over her mouth,

"Yeah, it's... nothing, Vincent. Relax."

To both of their surprise, he lifted his hand to his head and felt around the shard. Without a word of surprise, he wrapped his hand around it and yanked it out, Yuffie screaming and covering her eyes. Cid looked away, holding Vincent away a little as more blood ran down his face. "Jesus Christ."

"I'll survive." Vincent murmured, pushing himself to sit on his own and glancing briefly at Yuffie. "Are you all right?" She nodded, looking back at him as though he would leap up and bite her. "Good."

Cid snapped himself back to sanity, swinging the flashlight at the Highwind, "We gotta go see if anybody else survived the crash. So far you two and the chocobo are the only ones I found."

"Right."

Yuffie darted off towards the downed airship, turning and hopping backwards, gesturing wildly for the two of them to follow. Cid wasted no more time, offering Vincent his hand and pulling him to his feet. Despite his injury, Vincent seemed steady on his feet walking side by side with Cid back to the Highwind. He frowned, Cid chuckling suddenly, shooting a glance at his friend out the corner of his eye, "A little something, Vincent."

"Hmm?"

"Call me Lucrecia again and you're a dead man, thing, something."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Cloud was the first one Yuffie found, slumped against the guard rail at the rear of the Highwind's cockpit. She reasoned that he must have rolled back there when the ship went down. Tifa was near by, and like Cloud appeared unharmed, yet unconscious.

Vincent instructed her to lay them in recovery position on the flattest surface she could find, shaking his head in disbelief when she informed him that she had no idea what that meant leaving him to totter over to arrange them himself.

Cid clawed through the remains of the consoles, grinning as Barret's hand jerked out of the twisted metal and grabbed his own. "Nice to know yer still with us." He chortled, relieved. Barret scratched the back of his head, finding that every part of his body ached,

"Yeah, well I ain't gonna die that easy." He glanced over at Vincent laying Tifa out on her side, "She all right?"

"She will live if that's what you mean." Vincent answered him, falling backwards to sit, his head swimming. Barret was concerned,

"You all right? You look pastier than normal."

"I am fine."

"Hey." Cid called to Barret, already halfway across the cockpit floor, "You have any idea where Red went?"

"I saw him rollin' ass over head down that way." Barret pointed to the stairs, surprised to see the walls lighting up.

Red limped up the stairs, favouring his near foreleg. He whimpered, setting it down carefully on the metal floor. "I'm okay." He assured everyone, his voice shaky. "Though I don't think the same can be said of Cait Sith."

The mechanical cat was in bad shape, lying limp on the floor, the moogle unit nearby missing an arm and most of its head. "Ai yai yai!" Cid exclaimed, likening the moogle to something from a horror film in his head. "That's beyond repair."

Red nosed Cait Sith, whimpering gently at the lack of response. He looked up at Cid, his yellow eye doleful, "Can you fix him?"

"I'll take a look at him in a minute. Let's find my crew first."

Yuffie jumped to her feet, chasing over to Cid and grabbing his arm, "I'll go with you." He grunted in reply, shoving his hands in his pockets, Yuffie's arm looped through his, and started off down the stairs. Barret moved to follow, hesitating as he realised Vincent would be alone in a room full of casualties. Maybe that word was a bit extreme, but he would be on his own looking after Cloud, Tifa and Red when he was hurt himself. "Yo, Vincent, you gonna be okay?"

"Go on." He paid Barret no more attention, leaning back against the guard rail and drawing his legs up, hiding his face behind them.

Red whined, unsure what to do. He had never seen Vincent like that before – acting so mortal. Usually he was the unbreakable one; not letting anything get to him. Now he looked so normal, hissing and cradling his head, rocking back and forth against the pain.

Healing was always the worst part, just those few minutes when it started. Vincent reminded himself that it would be over soon, then he could make himself useful and help the others search for the last survivors. "Vincent?" He looked up, white light flashing through his skull at the sudden movement. He let out a whimper, immediately scolding himself and pinpointing Tifa as the source of the voice.

She was looking up at him, still lying on her side. "Tifa?" He crawled forward, sitting back and looking down at her, his bottom lip quivering against that incessant pain.

"I feel ill."

"I see."

Her head pounding, she didn't try and sit up. Instead she drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, shivering. "Where's Cloud."

"Behind you." Vincent swayed, catching himself before he fell on his side and busied himself with unbuckling his cape. "You are cold." He leant forward and draped it over her, careful not to collapse on top of her.

Grateful, Tifa managed a small smile. She squeezed her eyes shut, her head beginning to pound. "Are the others okay?"

He nodded once, regretting it instantly. "They are fine."

"Are you going to go too?"

The fear in her voice unsettled him. "I-"

"Stay here." She grabbed his hand, twining her fingers through his, "Please." She lowered her brown eyes away from his bemused crimson ones, "I want somebody close to me. Down here."

Vincent refrained from pointing out that Cloud was right beside her, hesitantly shifting a little closer to her and laying down on his side, facing her. "Is this all right?"

"That's perfect." She smiled, carefully threading her free fingers through those of his claw. "I need a friend close by right now." He said nothing in reply, just looked back at her as she closed her eyes and shifted her head against the uncomfortable flooring. She was going to go to sleep it seemed.

He relaxed, closing his own eyes. It felt better on the floor, no effort needed in holding his head up. His eyes snapped open suddenly, something pressing up against his back freezing him. To his surprise, Red's cheek rested carefully against the top of his head, the red beast's tail flame casting shadows on the far wall. Red said nothing, mouthing gently as he settled to sleep.

Surprise wasn't enough to describe what Vincent felt, two of his teammates so dependent on him for comfort right then. Alien was a closer descriptive. Still, he took it upon himself to remain awake and keep watch over Tifa and Red. They needed sleep to heal fast, he did not.

---------

Presently, Barret returned, the chocobo attendant slung over his shoulder. He started at the sight of Vincent, Tifa and Red, but continued on to lay his find beside Cloud.

"Is he alive?"

"Whu-?" Barret started, realising that Vincent was doing that resting his eyes trick again. "Yeah. He's just out cold is all. Cid said to bring all the survivors up here." Composing himself, he asked, "What are you doing on the floor?"

Vincent gave no answer, no intention of doing so made that much softer by Cid and Yuffie coming up the stairs with the crewman from the operations room carried between them. "He's the last one from down there." Cid announced, helping Yuffie lay him down beside his colleague. "There ain't nobody else alive down there."

A groaning caught his attention, leading him over to the helm and the young pilot crawling out from under the controls. He looked up at Cid in a daze, "Did we land, Captain?"

"We're sure as hell on the ground."

"Mission accomplished then?"

"Something like that." Cid beckoned Barret over with a jerk of his head and ducked under his protégé's arm. Barret got his other arm and the two of them supported him over to his friends.

"Man, there's only so much of this a man can take, ya know?"

"What's the matter, Barret?" Cid asked, his voice husky from exertion, "You queasy about body parts and dead guys?"

"No, man. Just, death and all that gets to me when it's all around me like this. Yeah, bits o' people get me sick."

"You should have served a stretch in Hojo's lab." All eyes turned on Vincent. He lay on the floor, eyes still closed, still holding Tifa's hands, Red curled around him, "You would have seen things that desensitised you to body parts."

Barret and Cid looked at each other, the former shaking his head, "I never thought I'd say this to Vincent of all people, but that's too much information and I didn't need to hear it."

Vincent said nothing to that, untangling his fingers from Tifa's and breezing to his feet in one fluid movement, Yuffie squealing with delight to see that he was better. He clenched his teeth behind his lips, wishing she wouldn't squeal so. His hearing amplified it to five times what it should be. Roughly translated as unbearable. Something else reached his ears.

Cloud had begun to come round and was moaning softly, reaching to rub his temple tenderly. "What happened?" Before anyone could answer, Barret had hold of him and pulled him roughly to his feet.

"Well! Spikey's awake. How you feeling?"

"Groggy."

"'Course you're damn groggy! I'd be worried 'bout you if you weren't!"

Barely escaping Barret's affection alive, Cloud steadied himself, leaning hard on the nearest person – Yuffie incidentally - "What's the situation?"

Cid was the one to field that question, taking a new cigarette from his goggles and lighting up, "Hard to say. Highwind's bust, half of my crew are dead an most of us have scrapes and or concussions." He shot a glance at Vincent, "Or holes in our heads that don't seem to be bothering us."

"What about Midgar?"

"What 'bout Marlene!" Barret leapt in suddenly. "Reeve said she's in a safe place, but we dunno what happened to Midgar, and Kalm's so close by, so for all we know she could be-"

"I'm sure she's safe." Cloud reassured him, Yuffie scraping him off onto the guard rail beside Vincent.

Tifa and Red began to wake up, Vincent offering Tifa his hand and pulling her to sit. She rubbed her head, looking up at Cloud, clearly glad to see he was none the worse for wear. He smiled at her, turning his attentions on the problem at hand. What to do next? The whole stay for the battle, go home to your loved ones thing seemed to have fallen through. The best course of action would be to get to Midgar and see what the damage was, offer to help out. Good idea. More hands may save more lives.

"What's the plan, Cloud?" Cid asked, almost as though reading his thoughts.

"We can't be that far from Midgar, so let's head there and see what we can do. If anything."

Nobody protested, Cid somewhat upset at leaving his lady and her lost crewmen, but understanding that none of them were going anywhere. They would be given a proper burial once he got back to clear up the Highwind's remains.

Cloud led the way down the steps out of the cockpit, Barret close behind holding Yuffie's flashlight. She brought up the rear, squealing as she tripped over something in the dark. She dashed forward and grabbed the wrist of Vincent's claw, clinging to him for dear life. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, almost glaring round at her. "What?"

"I can't see." She explained hurriedly. "You've got night-vision-eyes. You can see where you're going. Don't let me trip up, kay?" His annoyed sigh didn't deter her, but he didn't brush her off either, trailing her along behind him down the steps after his comrades. If this dependence on him insisted on keeping up, he may have to insist on vanishing without trace.

(NOTE: Three chapters in one go to get things moving along. Poor Vincent, the pillar of strength for the girls in this one. What happened during Meteor fall is up to you. Questions remain unanswered, Are Tessi and Reeve okay? Where did they go? What about the other Turks? Wait and see is all I can say to that right now. A lot of time has been spent working on writing work and my deviantart account of late, so writing for fun had been shoved aside for the time being. There may be a gap before I post up anymore of this, as there's a big assignment coming up for me this month, so all my writing is going to be focused that way. knowing me and my study abilities I'll probably give in and write a couple more chapters soon. For those of you that are interested, I have character illustrations for this fic on DA. stormus . deviantart . com is the addy, without the spaces of course. Plugging my DA... shhhh!

Just a little something about Cid. He seems callous and uncaring about his crew members, and Yuffie, but he's taking the logical approach in order to save as many people as he can. He can't afford to be weighed down with emotional breakdowns, he's on a mission!)


	20. Chapter 20

_Blood: 20_

_Rained out parade_

_Of all the things to ruin, why did it have to be Lilly? This question circulated Vincent's brain like the stagnant foam in the Midgar dam. It refused to go away and felt more bitter each time asked. _

_The item store was quiet, and empty apart from the storekeeper, but he was harmless and didn't like asking questions. Vincent sat in the alcove, in front of the wood burner. He held a bottle of hyper, taking the occasional sip as he stared at the burning wood. Too much Hyper could cause fury, but just the right amount at the right times could be a useful pick-me-up. _

_He shook his hair behind his ears, sighing as it fell back over his eye. Even his hair paid him no respect it seemed. What a stupid thought. "Vincent." _

_He snapped to attention, looking round to see Lucrecia watching him, concern written all over her face. "Lucrecia." He moved to stand. _

"_Please, don't get up." _

"_I... all right." To his surprise she wandered over, combing the rain drops from her hair with her fingers, and took a seat beside him. "You went out in the mountain rain without a coat." Vincent observed quietly, a little surprised that she should forget something like that. _

"_So did you." She murmured, spying his soaking jacket hung over a chair in front of the fire. He smiled gently, pinching his shirt and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. _

"_I have thick skin. Besides, I was only indoors for a brief second, not long enough to get used to the temperature difference." _

_Lucrecia's concern got the better of her. She folded her legs underneath herself and turned to look at him. "Vincent, are you all right?" _

"_Hmmmm?" _

_She grounded her stare on the worn floorboards, rubbing her arm nervously, "I heard you on the phone to Trey Henson. You sounded upset." _

"_Oh." He chuckled softly setting the Hyper aside. "It's nothing to be concerned over." His deep breath told her otherwise. The look on her face prompted him to explain. "When I was a new recruit in the Turks, Trey asked me if I would like a part ownership in a classic motorcycle. Being young and overly naive, I accepted. Unfortunately I did not realise that the contract forced all problems and liability for Trey's idiocy on my insurance. Now he has crashed her into a wall, and I'm footing the bill." _

"_Her?" _

"_Yes. All machines are female. Lilly is my motorcycle's name. Trey decided to name her after a woman he once knew. Honestly I'm surprised he remembers any of the women he's been with, but apparently 'everyone's had a ride on Lilly'." _

_Lucrecia laughed, falling back to sit against the wall again. "You let him call your bike Lilly?" _

"_Well, Laid Back Lilly is her official name." _

"_Oh dear." _

"_Think how I feel." _

_They shared a smile, Lucrecia spotting the Hyper on the floor beside his thigh. "What is that stuff like?" _

_Vincent picked it up, turning it to and fro in the light and examining the pink liquid closely. "Like strawberry milkshake crossbred with one of those God awful energy drinks." _

_She screwed up her face, "Sounds... interesting." _

"_I won't lie to you, Lucrecia, it's disgusting." He shook his head lightly, taking a gulp and shaking his head harder, wrinkling his nose, "I don't know why I drink it. Albeit once in a blue moon." _

"_Because it's a pick me up?" _

"_I suppose so. I don't like the idea that I drink it at all."_

"_Can I have a sip?" _

_Surprised, Vincent nodded, handing the bottle to her. Lucrecia looked at it, swilling it round a few times and glancing at him, a look on her face as though he had offered her a bottle of vomit. None the less, she took a quick sip, swallowing it and shaking her head hard. "Ack! That was nasty." _

"_Wash your mouth out with bleach. That usually takes the taste away." _

"_I should imagine it would taste better." _

_The two of them were silent then, Vincent watching those flames again, Lucrecia humming to herself, busy with her hair tie. _

_At length, Vincent snapped out of it, crawling forward to his jacket and taking his letter from the breast pocket. Lucrecia was curious, but kept herself to herself, not wanting to appear nosey. Vincent sat back against the wall, examining the envelope closely. It had the Shinra and Midgar post marks on it, so it could be official. Curious more than anything else, he slipped his little finger under the flap and ripped it open. _

_Lucrecia looked as surprised as he felt, a black and red plaited bracelet falling into his lap. "What in the world?" He picked it up and turned it over in his hand, confused as to why anyone at Shinra should be sending him gifts, and in his favourite colours too. _

"_A secret admirer?" Lucrecia asked, toying with the idea quite fun. Vincent looked bemused, neglecting to answer that and taking the letter out of the envelope. _

_He found there to be two letters inside, one official, the other anything but. 'Unusual. What is this about?' Unable to decide between the two as to which one he should read first, he put them on the floor, marked side down and closed his eyes, shuffling them around one another until he forgot which one was which. _

_Lucrecia watched this strange act in fascinated surprise. What was he doing? "Is this usual when you get a letter?" _

_Vincent opened his eyes, picking up the letter on the left. "No. I couldn't decide which one to open first." _

"_Really? That's what that was about?" She giggled, watching him unfold his choice and begin reading. _

_As soon as he saw the handwriting a soft smile touched him, Lucrecia even more intrigued as to who it was from. Vincent picked up on her curiousity, glancing over at her before picking up the bracelet and slipping it over his hand, tucking it under his sleeve. "It's from my baby sister." _

"_Baby sister?" Vincent had a sister? _

"_Miko, or Verity to us over here." _

"_Miko? I didn't know you had a sister." _

_He smiled, scanning the childish scrawls on the paper, "I have two, both younger than me. Jun and Miko." Lucrecia was intrigued. _

"_Why do they have Wutaiese names?"_

"_Because they're Wutaiese." _

"_No, I mean why do they have Wutaiese names, and you don't?" _

"_I do. My name is Kazuo." _

"_Kazuo?" _

"_Yes." He felt he should explain, the conversation obviously confusing Lucrecia more and more. "My family spent some time on the great continent when I was a small child. Father was working in Gongaga, and believed that we should try and fit in. The locals were wary of the unusual, and a Wutaiese family wasn't something they saw everyday, so we took familiar names for the duration of our time there." _

"_I see." She frowned, "Did he choose Vincent for you back then?" _

"_Yes." _

"_Why keep it? Times have changed." _

_He shrugged, stretching one leg out towards the wood burner. "Vincent Valentine sounds more Professional." Reading on a little, he chuckled, "Miko didn't need another name, but she told father she felt left out, so he gave her a name there and then. No more reason for it." _

_Lucrecia smiled, inexplicably happy to see Vincent in reminiscence mode. He took on a faraway look that screamed good memories. "Oh dear." She shifted closer, his words telling her that she could do so. She peered at the paper trying for all she was worth to work out what the scribbles meant, scolding herself suddenly for thinking that's what they were. It was Wutaiese. Of course Miko would write in Wutaiese. Why not write in her home language? _

"_What's the matter?" _

"_She's found another stray kitten." He looked round at Lucrecia, a smile on his lips, "Miko collects cats like there's no tomorrow. The village storehouse is full of them. It began with one, and that one was easy to keep hidden, but now there's upwards of twenty living in there, rushing in and out of the hole in the door all day long. You can't move in there, let alone feed the blasted things." _

"_How old is she?" _

_Vincent had to think about that question, feeling cold in the pit of his stomach suddenly. Had it really been that long? "Nine." _

"_She's so young." Lucrecia appeared to be in a world of her own, pondering the number as though it held some deep secret. Vincent read on, aloud, _

"_I have made this bracelet to keep you safe. It will protect you as long as you wear it, because I made it myself and only me, for you." He had to read the next part out loud, chuckling as he did so, "Has your hair grown back after the accident? Because you look silly with short hair." _

"_Accident?" Lucrecia had taken interest again, frowning at him as though there were some unfortunate story to tell. _

_Vincent scratched his back against the wall, cricking his neck, stiff from sitting in one position on the floor. She really wanted to know? " Last time I went home was on her fourth birthday. She screamed when she saw I had cut my hair off to my ears. She was so upset that I had to tell her it had happened by accident in the office." _

"_You? With long hair?" _

"_It's thick and messy. A nuisance to keep when I have to be away so early in the morning." _

"_I see." She reached over and combed out a few strands of his hair, "You would look good with long hair."_

_"If you request I grow it out, you can care for it." _

_She said nothing to that, turning her eyes on her fingernails. Vincent skim read the rest of Miko's letter, folding it carefully and laying it aside once he was done. Away from family life, he had business matters to attend to, picking up the official letter and opening it. 'Hmph. From the desk of Shaun Richards.' He thought, recognising the double signature – one at the top, affirmed again at the bottom. 'Self-obsessed barbarian.' _

_What Richards had to say surprised him: _

**'Valentine, **

**Thought you should know that your little mistake has been rectified. Kennedy and Veld tracked down Baske and brought him in. He has since been dispatched with a fully paid ticket to hell, courtesy of myself and the President. **

**Now that shenanigan is over, Kennedy has been assigned to assist you in your duties with the Science department. I trust you will receive him with good grace, and gratitude. **

**Sincerely, **

**Shaun Richards – Manufacturing Department in Administrative Research, Senior in General Affairs.'**

"_You're a damn Turk, Richards. Just like the rest of us." Vincent growled to himself, Lucrecia looking at him in confusion. He explained,"Richards likes to use all the titles he can in short letters. He's so self-important it makes my head spin." _

"_You don't like him very much, do you?" _

"_Ha! Like him? There was no man I would willingly stab in the back until Shaun Richards." _

"_Vincent, you can't mean that." _

_He got to his feet, picking up his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder. Sighing deeply, he turned to Lucrecia, looking down at her with intense red eyes. "If he turned his back on me for long enough I don't know if I'd be able to help myself." _

"_Vincent-" 'You're shattering my illusion of you.' _

"_It's the same with all of us: Marlon, Trey, me. Even Morris, Evan and Veld. All of us would leap at the chance to be rid of Richards. He's barbaric. His training methods are engineered to breed fear in his students, keep the under his thumb. That's how he works; he tears you apart from the inside out, tortures you until he knows you're afraid. He derives some kind of pleasure from it." _

_Lucrecia didn't know what to say. She knew that the Turks were a serious organisation – what they did was enough indication of that, but to know surviving extended to the office... "Has he ever... hurt you?" _

"_How can I shoot like I do, Lucrecia? Ask yourself that. What's the answer?" _

"_I... I don't know." _

"_Bleeding, from my eyes." _

"_What?" _

_Vincent sighed, shaking his head, turning his eyes on the floorboards. "They call me 'Bloody Valentine' for a reason, and it's not what people have been led to believe." He looked at her, straight in the eye, "I missed a target once. Richards attempted to drown me, held my head under water until some of the blood vessels in my eyes burst. I was too afraid to miss again. While he was around, at least." The look on her face said it all, Vincent running one hand back through his hair. "I should not have told you this. It should never have been mentioned outside of the department." _

"_I won't repeat it." 'I don't want to think what would happen to you if I did.' _

_He looked grateful, but Lucrecia realised that his stomach must be rending itself in burning knots. He regretted telling her. Without another word, he nodded a salute and walked away towards the door, his jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder. _

_Lucrecia refused to watch him go, sick to her stomach. He was under undue pressure also? What happened if this assignment wasn't completed to a satisfactory standard. What would happen to him? She snapped out of it, the door closing with a quiet click, forcing her to her feet and across the floor after him. She had to know what that letter said... _

(NOTE: Some more Lucrecia and Vinny bonding time. One of the things I love about writing Vincent is that there's so much we don't know about him, ergo there's so much to play with. Normally I don't like detailing a game character's past too much, but for this story it is kind of necessary - if he was from Wutai then etc

Richards. I told you he would turn up again, like a bad penny. He is the only character I've ever created that I hate. I don't know why, but it's refreshing to write a genuinely nasty person, and as you can tell, that is he. The nastiness has yet to reach its peak. Watch this space.

I know I said I was going to lay off for a while, but my man's working nights for a few days, when that happens, I don't sleep. So tonight I found myself sitting in from of some tacky all-night quiz broadcast on ITV1, screaming '!Des O' Connor!' at the screen. I had to occupy my mind elsewhere.

And one more thing – that blood vessels in the eyes thing can be caused by holding your breath in water for an excessive amount of time while exerting yourself, eg swimming underwater, or say... struggling? Doesn't have to be much water either, apparently.)


	21. Chapter 21

Blood: 21

Midgar

The medical bay was dimly lit, a couple of candles burning on the windowsill and beside the beds. Rose blinked against them, their little light painful to her sore eyes. Everything was so quiet, not even the beeping of an ECG machine to be heard. There was something, but it sounded like quiet humming. She focused on Shirley, standing at the end of her bed, rubbing her ankle. Evan was nowhere to be seen.

Shirley hummed quietly to herself, something to break the deathly silence. There were three patients needing her care now, one having slipped away in the night. She manipulated Rose's ankle, glad to feel her tendon tighten down the back of her leg. She would be able to use it at least, even if it would be painful for a while.

"What's going on?" Rose croaked, attempting to sit up.

Shirley frowned, "Don't try and sit up. Not yet."

"Why?"

"I don't think it's a good idea. That should be enough." Not feeling strong enough to argue, Rose obeyed, laying back and clasping her hands on her chest. Shirley continued to manipulate her ankle. "You're lucky, this leg of yours will still work."

"Oh." What else could she say? "Why is it so dark in here?"

Shirley huffed, "You slept through it, didn't you?" What? "Meteor fell last night. Somehow, somewhy, we are all still here. Unfortunately, it knocked out electricity throughout Junon. I lost a man last night because his life support cut out. The generators didn't come online, so he was screwed. Now we're down to candles and campfires."

Meteor had come down? Rose looked around, "Where's Evan?"

"Off trying to get in touch with your friend. Now," She glanced at Rose, turning her attention back to her work, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Good. And your birthday?"

"Twenty third of September. What is this about?"

The look Shirley gave her was enough to silence her, but the nurse explained none the less, "I'm trying to ensure that your head is all right. Now please answer the questions and stop griping. What's your mother's name?"

"Lynette."

"And your father?"

"Coulthard."

"Good. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Rose shook her head, regretting it instantly as a throbbing pain hit her. Shirley continued, "What school did you go to?"

"Hawethorne junior. Then I was home-schooled when we moved to the mountains."

"Why was that?"

"Why was I home-schooled?"

"No, why did you all move to the mountains?"

"Oh. My grandpa died and pa inherited his farm. We moved up there so pa could ranch mountain chocobos."

"I see." Shirley set Rose's foot down carefully on the bedspread, wandering away to fetch a roll of bandage from the cupboard.

Rose watched her, feeling unusually calm. For once she felt no need for alertness. If Meteor had fallen, and the world was the way it should be, then there was nothing to worry about. She had survived, and that was the main thing. Selfish as it sounded, she could carry on with her life and do what she wanted with it.

Evan's entry to the medical bay snapped her out of it. "Evan."

He faltered, surprised to see her awake. "Rose." He crossed to her bed and took up a seat in his chair, "How are you feeling?"

She pushed herself to sit, carefully, aware Shirley kept one eye on her. "I'm fine. Leg hurts, but otherwise all right. Have you heard from Tessi?"

Evan shook his head, "No. I can only pray he found somewhere safe to shelter from Meteor."

Rose said nothing, grimacing as Shirley began bandaging her ankle. Evan took her hand, glad that she was all right. There was one less thing to worry about while searching for Tessi. "You must be happy." He said suddenly, glancing across the room at the furthest bed. Rose frowned, following his line of sight.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise to see Tseng there, sleeping quietly. "Tseng?" She looked round at Evan, "I forgot he was here. Why's he unconscious?"

"To help him heal." Shirley explained, not taking her eyes off her work. Rose nodded, settling back against the headboard of her bed.

"At least I'm not alone. All I need to make this perfect is pa and Muffin."

"Muffin?"

"Her dog." Evan explained. "And Tessi. He should be here."

"Yeah." Rose agreed. "He should be here too." She smiled, looking up at Evan with placid green eyes, "Quiet rest is something none of us would be allowed."

"I take it your friend is lively?"

Evan answered Shirley's question with a nod, before turning his attention back on Rose, "Is there anything you want? Something to read?"

"I take it I'm going to be here a little while?"

Shirley grunted, "You can walk about if you want, but it won't be comfortable. I recommend you rest for a few days."

Rose nodded, looking up at Evan, "Could you get your hands on some of the old TTF tapes? If I can't practice myself, I would quite like to visually go over some of the old programs and see what I can pick up." Evan was surprised,

"You want to watch old Turks' training sessions?"

"Mmmm hmmmm."

Shirley rose to that, sticking her hands on her hips, "You better have no intention of trying any moves if you want your heel better."

"I intend only to watch, I assure you."

Evan rubbed the back of his neck, sucking in a breath through his teeth and walking away a little. "It'll have to be on one of those old portable sets. You know the ones? With the battery packs?" She did know them, all too well. "What years? Recent? Stone age?"

"Variety."

"Skill level?"

"Fully-fledged. I just want to run over some of the refresher and maintenance sessions."

"All right." He smiled suddenly, throwing her a sly glance out the corner of his eye, "I'll root out a couple of Trey's old sessions. We can watch them together – I'll bring the popcorn."

"I'll find the remote for freeze-frames."

"It's going to be a good night."

---------

"This place is totaled." Yuffie's comment stopped just short of Cid's brain. He made a point of ignoring destructive comments made by her; ninety per cent being aimed at him as they were, it helped his delicately balanced blood pressure.

Still, he enjoyed watching her dash ahead a little way and turn a few circles, swinging her arms around and whistling up at the dark and rainy sky. All the same, it was expected of him to grumble at her. The situation did call for it. "Get back here and shaddap!" He barked, pointing at the ground beside himself, "This is a disaster zone if ya hadn't noticed!"

She halted, turning on one foot to glare back at him, fists clenched on her hips, "Who're you to tell me what to do all the time, OLD MAN! I can do what I want!"

"Cid kinda does have a point, Yuffie." Cloud interjected, a little shy of a possible outburst directed his way. "Bad things have happened here tonight. A lot of people have died."

"That's right." Clearly satisfied that Cloud was firmly on his side, Cid continued, "This situation calls for, dammit... what's the word? Vincent?" He looked round at his 'friend'.

"Decorum."

"Yeah. Decorum. Something you don't have."

"I do so have decorum!" She cried, thumbing at her chest, "I'll show you all!" With that she turned and stomped off, arms folded across her chest, but quiet as a mouse.

Cid chuckled, turning to Cloud and grinning. Cloud said nothing, the feud between Cid and Yuffie nothing really to do with him. Yes, he would try and quell the battles when they broke out, but really he was just one of the soldiers sheltering in the trenches with a pan on his head, keeping out the way of the never-ending war raging in the air around him.

Barret snapped him from his thoughts, "Damn. Thought she'd never shut her flappin' mouth."

"Shinra invaded Wutai again, they'd all be old and grey by the time she finished clap-trapping at 'em." Nobody said anything in answer to Cid's remark. Vincent shot him an unseen glare, correcting himself and focusing on something else.

By now Yuffie was out of sight, having stormed off round the corner and off the street. The sight which met her in the main square stopped her in her tracks. 'Oh my GAWD.'

Rescue squads rushed back and forth, civilians digging through piles of rubble with their bare hands. The fountain in the center had been torn in half, the archway above cascaded down on top of it in a storm of bricks and mortar. Water flooded out of the base, soaking the ground in a constant stream. Buildings lining the square had the tops shorn off, leaving more bricks and cables blocking the roads out.

Yuffie had never seen so many flashing lights in her life, several ambulances standing at the only other clear exit. "You guys, come quick!" She called back over her shoulder down the street to her teammates.

Cloud came at the run, Barret and Tifa hot on his heels. He halted beside Yuffie, unsure what to say to the destruction in front of him. Barret knew exactly what to say, "Holy shit."

Cid, Vincent and Red arrived, Cid speechless. Yes, the streets they had walked so far had been a mess, but the square had people, lots and lots of people. He looked at Cloud for instruction, clearing his throat to get his friend's attention.

Cloud hesitated, Barret shoving his shoulder, jarring him into action. "Uh, we need to help out. This is Sector one, so Barret, Tifa and I will stay here and see what we can do, Cid, you and Vincent go with Yuffie and start on Sector eight. Highwind crew and Red can go to Sector five. We'll move sector by sector and meet up as we go along. Nobody argued with that, each team breaking off and heading to their designated areas.

Barret wasted no time getting involved. He started over to the fountain and set to work beside an old woman, digging through the rubble. Cloud and Tifa joined him.

After about Five minutes, Barret sat up straight and wiped his brow. "This is useless. We ain't gettin' anywhere."

Tifa frowned, sitting back on her feet, "What do you suggest?"

"Hell, I dunno. I'm lost."

"It's what everyone's doing." Cloud pointed out, nodding towards the rescue workers. Sure enough they were using their hands to get through the dustier rubble.

"That don't say much for us, seeing as they's trained and we're jes' helping out." A jingling caught Barret's attention.

A golden retriever ran by, its collar jingling as it went, its jowls flapping in time to its gait. He followed it with his eyes, looking on in surprise as it ran up and stopped beside a tall, long-haired red head. His blood began to boil. Of all the people he did not want to see right then, Reno was topping the list.

Cloud and Tifa watched, horrified, Barret get to his feet, slide down the rubble pile and march across the square towards his enemy.

"Reno!" The red head didn't respond apparently talking on a cellphone. "Reno! Look at me when I talk to you dammit!" Still nothing direct, though a little confused glancing around went on. That was the last straw. Barret quickened his pace, snarling as he reached out and grabbed his prey by the scruff of the neck, hoisting him up to eye level with one hand. "What the fuck're you..." He trailed off, finding a greying middle-aged man staring back at him. What could he say? He had made a mistake. "I... uh-"

His captive did not seem the slightest bit bothered, clutching his cellphone and folding his arms across his chest. "Are you gonna put me down? This is an important call I'm trying to make." Wordlessly, Barret lowered him to the ground. Still not fazed, the red head turned away and continued his telephone conversation, "Yo Nickel? You still there? Excellent. Yeah. Do what you can, I'll keep it going out here. If you find him, give him my love and wish him luck, yeah? Well, in that case let me know. Fuck, I don't know, just get going, you're making my eyes water." He flipped the phone closed, putting it in his pocket and turning on one heel to face Barret.

'You damn tall.' Was the first thought that ran through Barret's mind, surprised to find himself looking up at someone for once. "Uh, I'm sorry." he apologised, "I thought you were someone else.

The hard look he received almost made him flinch. Surprise overcame him, a broad, diamond smile breaking out across the other man's face.

"Don't worry. Happens all the time."

"Yo!" The two of them looked round, Barret frowning to see Kotch run up and salute the red head, "We got the properties cleared, boss. What do we do now?"

"The 'bees all accounted for?"

"Yessir!"

"Then take a break. Get all the uninjured ones up here to practice their night nurse routines. 'Cept Brandy, I got a special job for her."

Barret lowered his eyes, unwilling to consort with Kotch at any time. He wrinkled his nose, surprised yet again, this time to see that the man standing in front of him wore snake skin cowboy boots.

Kotch saluted again, turning and making for the clear street, just as Cloud and Tifa arrived. "What did he want?" Tifa asked, more than a hint of distaste to her voice.

"Helpin' out. 'Parently." Barret murmured, still surprised himself.

Kotch out of sight, the red head turned his attention back on Barret. "Well, no hard feelings on my side. Name's Trey." He shook Barret's hand hard, "Head doorman of the HoneyBee Inn."

"Uh, Barret Wallace-"

"Leader of AVALANCHE. I know who you are." He glanced at Tifa, "Tifa Lockheart, proprietor of Seventh Heaven, near HoneyBee. I take it a career in pleasure didn't appeal?"

She shrugged, rubbing her arm nervously, "Not really. No."

"Ah well." He started at the sight of Cloud, raising an eyebrow and pointing at him, "I know you. Sweaty palms guy. AKA Cloud Strife. Ex-SOLDIER."

Cloud shook Trey's hand, a little unsure about the whole easy-going, yet formal greetings going on. "Sort of." Trey was an interesting guy; tall, with long red hair pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck, the cut spiking it out at irregular intervals, a flyaway tuft on his head held tidily in place under a white hair clip. Though he didn't look particularly old – very few lines on his face – he was beginning to go grey at the roots. His eyes were blue, but looked a bit red, almost as thought he had been crying, or was about to, and his skin retained a summery tan, though Midgar couldn't have done much for it. He dressed summery also, wearing an orange suede waistcoat over a very finely-woven, almost transparent white shirt. He covered his bottom half in flared blue jeans with large turn-ups, just hiding his boots until he rested his leg. He looked eccentric. "You're checking this area on your own?"

Trey shook his head, "Nah. I'm not checking anything. Just picking up some thing's for a friend, hey, Muffin?" He ruffled the golden retriever's hair. The dog wagged his tail, shaking himself down and weaving his way through Trey's legs to nose at Cloud's knee for attention.

"Muffin?"

Trey waved him off, "He belongs to a girl." Tifa pointedly ignored that remark, bringing Trey's attention on her immediately, "Calm down, ma'am. Was just a joke." A little impatient with her, he shook his head and whistled to Muffin, the dog breaking away from Cloud and taking up his position at Trey's left leg. "Good luck with the whole rescue operation. I gotta get going, and judging by the look on miss non-whore's face, y'all condemned me as a selfish waste of space. I have someone to find and HoneyBees to organise. Adiós."

He walked away, Muffin trailing close at his heel. Barret watched him go, a little confused as to what just happened. "You know, I really thought that guy was Reno."

"I can see why." Tifa remarked, walking away herself to continue searching the rubble. Cloud shrugged at her behaviour, darting off after her to catch up.

Clear of AVALANCHE, Trey reached into his pocket and took out a white hair band. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he glanced down at Muffin. "I know this is a long shot. God help me, but here." He held the band down for the dog to sniff. Muffin seemed interested, nosing the band around his palm for a good minute. Trey closed his hand around it, getting to one knee level with the pooch, "Muffin, I really need you to come through for me on this one. You do, and I'll give you anything you want. Food, the finest kibbles, bitches, a collar with your name on it. I don't care. Just... find Reno for me, boy. Go find him." Muffin didn't move. Trey shook his head, resigned. "Too long a shot for you." The dog didn't understand.

The sound of rotors above drew Trey to look up, a Shinra helicopter cruising overhead. "Only one of those I've seen since the close shave earlier. Damn you, Hojo." He followed it across the lightning split sky, frowning to see it heading out of the city. "Only a damn fool would fly in this weather. Meteorological storm in the wake of a meteorite entering the atmosphere. Asking for trouble. Making for Junon too. Be lucky if they get there."

Muffin nosed his hand, aware that something was wrong with him, just not able to comprehend what. Trey looked down at him, flashing that smile of his briefly. "Come on, Muffin. Let's find my baby."

(NOTE: Trey's still alive. By the way, TTF Stands for tactical training facility. Sorry about the long chapter, but I want to get to the heart of the story where the action and the point can actually get out. The problem with this story is that it's two stories in one, past and present, so it's taking longer to get to the point than it would if it was just one story line. When it's complete I'm going to post it up on my website as two different stories under the same title if that makes sense.)


	22. Chapter 22

Blood 22: Rainy daze

_"Vincent?" He was already out of sight, off into the night somewhere. Lucrecia halted beside the mansion gate, folding her arms across her chest against the cold rain. She should have picked up a coat before she left the inn. "Worry will make you do silly things." She said to herself, feeling suddenly nervous in the dark. Nobody else was around, the greenish lights of the village the only sign of life._

_Why did Vincent have to run away when he was upset? Why did he have to have such long legs? She had long legs too, but keeping up was difficult in heels. Sighing loudly, she schooled her thoughts and began to work out logically what his movements would be._

_He hadn't gone to the mansion; the gate hinges needed oiling and squeaked rather loudly, so she would have heard him open it. The inn was a definite no no. She slept at the inn, so that was her private sanctuary. Vincent believed in private sanctuaries, so wouldn't invade without her permission. Besides, he would have been closing the door as soon as she left the item store. The mountains were out. They were treacherous at night, and he had more sense than that._

_The only place left was the plains. Outside the gates of Nibelheim was the path to Cosmo Canyon, and a stretch of meadow. There was a tree there, where Vincent went to get away from everyone else – or one of the places at least. He seemed able to vanish without trace at will. More than once now she had found him asleep under that tree, though she'd only woken him once. The amount of walking around he did each day, he probably needed the sleep. Besides, he looked so peaceful when he slept, a far cry from when he was on duty._

_She shivered, rubbing her arms against the cold and wet. She could have grabbed her lab coat on the way out, it was on the floor near the door of her room. Enough 'could haves'. She had to find Vincent._

_---------_

_The rain was heavy now, thudding down from the sky in large drops to splash against the leaves and flowers dotted about the grass. Vincent shook his head, unable to believe that he had dropped his guard so. Yes, Lucrecia was a wonderful woman, and he didn't doubt her word for a second, but he had revealed secret information to her, albeit off the record information._

_He yawned suddenly, looking up at the leaves above. He had no idea why he had fallen in love with this particular tree, but it held good memories for him now; memories with Lucrecia. Rarely did he feel anything for women he met, but he felt something for Lucrecia, and he was fooling himself to pretend it was nothing. Why did he have to fall in love with unattainable women? That wasn't entirely true. Lucrecia was single, just, there seemed to be something going on between her and Hojo. As far as an outsider could see at any rate. "Why should she be interested in me? We have nothing in common. Lucrecia is a scientist. She lives for her work, so why on earth would she want to be with me?" It was high time he acknowledged reality. Right now, he sat under a tree in the pouring rain. What kind of reality was that?_

_"Vincent?"_

_He looked up, surprised to see Lucrecia walking up to him, hands clasped in front of herself. She met his gaze briefly before looking away. "I thought I might find you here."_

_"You're still not wearing a coat, Lucrecia." His plain observation stopped her in her tracks. She stood there, several meters in front of him, unsure what to do next. "Come under here." Vincent instructed her, "It's not that much dryer, but it's better than nothing."_

_She didn't hesitate any longer, hurrying over to sit beside him. "It's chilly tonight." She murmured, rubbing her bare arms once again. Vincent nodded his agreement, draping his jacket round her shoulders._

_"It's wet, I know, but I've been wearing it, so it's warm."_

_"Soggy and warm's better than dry and cold."_

_"As long as you don't catch a chill. What kind of bodyguard would I be if you did?" He looked up into the tree again, frowning as the rain fell harder. "This is the coldest February I've known for a while." To his surprise Lucrecia shifted closer to him, ducking under his arm and laying her head against his chest, shivering._

_The two of them were silent for some time, watching the rain falling on the meadow around them. Vincent relaxed a little, feeling somewhat warmer with Lucrecia so close. Her voice shocked him out of his thoughts, "It's not going to be just the two of us much longer."_

_"Hmmmm?"_

_"Your colleague, Marlon will be joining us soon."_

_"Oh. Yes." He adjusted his position, grimacing to feel the water had got through his underwear. Lucrecia grinned, poking him gently in the ribs,_

_"Your underwear's soaking too, isn't it?"_

_"I... Yes." He smirked, titling his head forward to hide behind his damp fringe. "Yes it is."_

_"In that case, we should be getting back."_

_"Yes."_

_She made no motion to get up, just shifted a little closer to him and closed her eyes. "Thing is, I don't want to move. Not right now."_

_Vincent hesitated, cautiously raising his hand to stroke her hair. "I... don't want to move either."_

_Lucrecia gave a contented sigh, and closed her eyes. "That makes two of us then." She slipped her hand between his shirt buttons and rested it on his chest. Vincent started, unsure if he should respond. Lucrecia made no further move, just content to be close to him and share her warmth with him. Almost unconsciously, Vincent kissed her hair, settling back against the tree and looking out over the darkened plains._

_Lucrecia sat up suddenly, looking at him in confusion. "Vincent?" He looked back at her, inexplicably calm for the situation._

_"I'm sorry, Lucrecia. A mistake on my part. It won't happen again."_

_She shook her head, "No. I don't-" She corrected herself, "I want it to." Carefully, she took a gentle hold on his cheeks and knelt up to brush his lips with her own. Vincent drew back, looking at her with a surprised frown. She blushed, looking down at his chest in embarrassment. He didn't feel the same. His palm on her cheek washed all her doubt away as he brought her lips to his in a gentle kiss._

_---------_

_Sunrise brought some warmth, some of Cosmo Canyon's climate carrying over to Nibelheim. Lucrecia opened her eyes, surprised to find herself looking at a patch of white milkmaids, swaying in the morning breeze. The rain had stopped sometime in the early hours, leaving a freshness in the air. She shifted, surprised at a sigh from behind. She rolled over to find Vincent laying beside her, on his back, his arms and legs spread as though to make grass angels. She couldn't stifle a giggle, but found herself smiling gently, seeing him looking so peaceful. Sitting up, she picked a milkmaid and brushed the tip of his nose with it. "Vincent."_

_He opened his eyes, blinking against the morning sunlight. There was something on his nose. Irritated, he swatted it away, annoyed when it came right back. Lucrecia chuckled, poking him in the ribs, making sure to hit his most ticklish spot. Vincent sat up quickly, squirming away from her tickling with a growl. He was momentarily stunned, finding Lucrecia beside him. "Lucrecia?"_

_She smiled, starting on buttoning his shirt. "Good morning, Vincent."_

_"Good morning." He looked around, "We fell asleep out here?"_

_"That's right."_

_"No wonder I'm so cold." Automatically he straightened the shoulders of her top. "Are you cold?"_

_"A little. Nothing a hot bath won't fix."_

_She lay her head on his chest again, nuzzling his damp shirt and pressing her ear against him. Vincent frowned, "What's this about?"_

_She shook her head. "Nothing. I just want to listen to your heartbeats."_

_"Make sure I'm still alive? I'm not going anywhere."_

_"I know. I just want to listen."_

_He leant back against the tree trunk, happy to give her what she wanted. It was a tiny thing after all. "Lucrecia," He said, "Do you ever wonder what you would be doing, if you weren't a scientist?"_

_She sat up, "No." and buckled his belt. "I've always loved science." Vincent put his arm around her resting her against his side. She listened to his heart again. "What would you have done, if you never joined the Turks?"_

_He thought hard about his answer, resting his chin on top of her head. "I don't know. I've never thought about it for myself before."_

_"Hmmmm." She broke away from him all of a sudden, grabbing his left wrist, "What time is it?" and pulled on his arm, getting to her feet. Vincent did as he was told and stood also, checking his watch for himself. A quarter past ten. They were both late reporting to the lab. Lucrecia grabbed his hand and towed him away towards the village. He went along with her, going through the cons of working in a dirty, wet uniform. There was certainly no shortage..._

(NOTE: This chapter's sort of a blur. My man's on nights again. Sleeping in the cold is surprisingly easy. When you have someone close to you, you don't really feel it too much. Last year sometime, Joe and I ended up sleeping in a friend's mini-bouncy castle in the drizzle. It was comfortable and nice :) So, things are happening at long last. We all know how Vinny and Lucrecia's romance ends, it's a shame, but they can have fun while in the swing of it. They're so sweet together. Still not fair I have to wait until November to play Dirge of Cerberus. Blighty's a horrible place to live when it comes to games and movies.)


	23. Chapter 23

Blood 23: One man and his dog

Tifa's fingers were beginning to hurt. Near on an hour now she had been digging through endless depths of rubble, and her fingertips were red raw. Sitting back on her feet, she took a rest, examining the fingers of her left hand closely. Her nails were torn to shreds, and skin had begun to come off the ends. She blew on them, finding a little relief in the cool air.

"Oh, my nails are never going to be the same!"

She looked round, finding a HoneyBee kneeling on the rubble pile, a little way from herself. Like all HoneyBees, she was pretty, everything except her hands in pristine clean condition; her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, curled artificially and left to tumble down her back in a shiny auburn stream. She hadn't been allowed time to change out of her Bee uniform, looking a little chilly in the scanty yellow and black bikini. "They're never going to polish up right again!" At that point she felt Tifa's eyes on her. "Huh? Oh, hello."

"Hello." Tifa returned to greeting.

Taking that as a sign of friendship, the HoneyBee crawled across the rubble to continue her search beside Tifa. "What's your name?"

"Tifa."

"Oh." She smiled, a little embarrassed, "That's a pretty name. I'm Pepper."

"You work at the HoneyBee Inn, right?"

"I did." She sat up, looking up at the sky as though deeply contemplating how to continue, "Everything got wrecked when Meteor came down. The people down around there went nuts and started looting the place. Mukki and Trey could only hold off so many. In the end Mukki and the bubbies took us into the dressing room and guarded us. Trey told us to stay there, then went out with that nail bat of his and things got bloody. When he didn't come back, I thought something terrible must have happened to him."

Tifa rubbed her arm, unsure why she was about to ask this question, or even why she cared, "You like that Trey guy then."

"Sure."

"You don't think he's a little... creepy?"

Pepper appeared shocked, letting up in her digging to look Tifa in the eye. "Trey IS NOT creepy. Sleazy, to a point, but you have to be to survive in our business. Of all the guys working in and around the HoneyBee Inn, Trey is the only one that won't lay a hand on you in any way other than as a friendly gesture. If any of us girls were ever in trouble, we called for him. A lot of times I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't come running." She shook her hair back, taking a strand of it from her mouth and slinging it over her shoulder. "Mukki takes good care of us, but he's got his young bubbies club, and all the promo work to think about, so he's not always around."

"He couldn't stick around and help with the rescue work." Tifa said aloud, resuming her digging.

"My ears feel hot. Hmmmm, almost like burning."

She nearly leapt out of her skin, looking round to see Trey standing behind her, Muffin at his hip, tail wagging. Nothing came to her that could justify what she had just said, that annoying hot feeling flushing across her cheeks. Trey didn't care, scrambling up the rubble pile to sit between her and Pepper and start digging.

A smile flashed between Pepper and himself, but no words were exchanged. He glanced at Muffin and hissed, "Rats!" The dog snapped to attention, growling deep in his throat and raking madly at the rubble with his large paws. Tifa frowned. Trey shrugged lightly, "You tell him there's rats, he's just gotta dig 'em out."

"Oh."

"You know something? I give up on you." He turned his back on her and focused his attention on Pepper. Without a word he took off his waistcoat and draped it over her shoulders. She nodded gratefully, brushing his hand with her own before setting to work once more. Trey joined her. This was going to be a long night...

---------

Four AM had come and gone by the time all of AVALANCHE reconvened in the Sector one square. Barret stalked up and down like a drill sergeant, Yuffie's patience wearing thinner and thinner by the minute. Cloud saw an argument coming, but decided to let it pass by. He was too tired to break up fights of any kind, and a fight between Barret and Yuffie would take a lot of energy to quell.

Each group report sounded very similar; we came, we saw, we dug through piles of rubble and helped those we could. Cloud did not relish telling them what he had signed them all up to next. "We're going to check out the other towns on this continent."

Cid and Yuffie both froze, the ninja boiling over much faster, "We just got through helping here! You want us to go through two more towns straight away? What is wrong with you!"

Cloud recoiled, forgetting himself momentarily. "Yuffie, there's nobody else here right now that can get away. Everyone is working on something or someone, a team has to go and check out the situation elsewhere. We're a team. Cid, can you fly a chopper?"

"'Course."

"Then we can get away and check the other places without too much trouble to those working here."

She muttered something in reply to that, folding her arms and turning away, tapping her foot impatiently. Cloud ignored her, looking to his other teammates. "Any more objections?"

"Shit, let's just get out of here. I wanna see Marlene." Barret grabbed Cloud's wrist and towed him towards the ruined number one reactor, and the train tracks. The others followed, none too happy about moving out straight away, but all understanding the need.

Vincent followed quietly with Cid, Yuffie skipping along behind. This night had made him regret more than usual- He stopped, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the golden retriever in front of him, half-crouched on the ground, a ball in its mouth, wagging its tail from side to side in a slow repeating sweep.

Yuffie took interest, leaning down on her knees to look at it. "Ooh, doggie."

"Hey!" She looked round, frowning to see Trey standing there, his HoneyBees and a young man with interesting hair standing in a uniform line behind him. "I heard you guys are moving out."

Cloud halted, looking round in surprise. "Yeah. We're going to look at the situation in the other towns."

"You'll be going to Junon then?"

"Your heads ticking, Trey." The young man said, fighting off a smirk.

Cloud frowned, sure he recognised him, something clicking in his head. The guy couldn't have been any older than twenty-five at the most, Yet half of his hair was messy and grey. Could have been dye, the other half in shiny black cornrows, swept back and smothered in wet look gel. He displayed a friendly disrespect for Trey, inclining his head with a smirk when the older man looked back at him. How they knew each other was anyone's guess, but he seemed to keep himself tidy, a once-white shirt with sleeves rolled up and top two buttons undone his choice, untucked over the lower half of a dark blue business suit.

"You been spending too much time in my head if you hear it too." Trey joked, grinning round at Cloud.

Vincent jumped to attention, shocking Yuffie with his sudden movement. He couldn't help it, zeroed in on Trey. He could not believe it. After twenty-seven years, there he was, every six foot something red-topped inch of Trey Henson. Greying a little around the roots, and slightly more wiry than once upon a time, but Trey Henson none the less.

He steadied himself, fighting the urge to run straight up to him and punch him in the face for old time's sake. No, a left hook would do more damage than it used to. Besides, Trey must be what? Fifty-nine years old?

Vincent's blood ran cold, the realisation hitting him as to exactly how long he had been locked away. If Trey was fifty-nine, he himself was fifty-four years old. 'I've lost a lifetime.'

"Anyways," Trey's voice snapped him out of it, the red head still addressing Cloud, "I need a ride to Junon, and seeing as y'all are going my way... I can offer you guys my skills in the mean time."

Cloud looked at Barret, who merely shrugged and asked, "What can you do that so special?"

"The question is, what can't I do?" Before Barret could say anything, Trey kicked a piece of plastic piping into the air, snatched his knife from the sheath at his ankle and threw it, straight into the piping to pin it against the partially demolished front wall of Goblin's bar.

Barret stared, tearing his attention away from the piping and back to Trey. "You're hired."

"Better watch your back, Trey." The young man behind drawled. "You know AVALANCHE have it in for people of our ilk."

"Shut yer cake cave, Nickel! I got nuthin' to say to that."

"Your funeral, Sir."

Cid scratched his head, elbowing Vincent in the side. "So being the good guys in this whole thing, if we're talking sides, that mean we're morally too high for this guy?" Vincent said nothing, aware Cid was thinking aloud, and would continue to do so - "I mean, the man did work in a whorehouse."

"Technically speaking, I didn't work in a whorehouse. I worked outside, being a doorman." Trey corrected him, taking a cigarette from his jeans front pocket and sticking it in his mouth. Yuffie grimaced,

"Oh great, two smokers. Now we're all gonna be smoked out twice as fast."

Trey glanced at her, "Mouthy little thing, aren't you?"

"I am not little!" She screeched back, stamping her foot.

Cloud cleared his throat, "Let's mose- move out." He didn't wait for any arguments, trailing away towards the sector one station. That was enough for the others, all of them following. Trey bid his HoneyBees goodbye and saluted Nickel, who readily returned the action. Trey gave a small smile, snapping Muffin's lead onto his collar, murmuring in a low voice "Keep looking for Reno. Call me if you hear anything." as he did so.

He walked away, Muffin trotting alongside him on his red lead. It felt wrong, leaving the Bees in such troubled times, but if AVALANCHE were heading Junon way, Evan and the others would need to be warned. It was difficult to tell how the rebels would react to confrontational Turks, and Rose and Tessi were naught but confrontational more often than not. 'Gotta give the kid a heads up on this. I owe her that.'

Turning the corner onto the station road, a wave of disappointment crashed into him, almost bowling him over. Yuffie was waiting for him, hopping from one foot to the other. She stuck her hands on her hips at the sight of him, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! What's the hold up?"

Trey kept hold of his precious composure, quietly reviewing the patience section of parenting 101 in his mind. "No hold up. Just taking it easy."

"We don't have time for taking it easy!" She exclaimed, grabbing his sleeve and towing him along quick enough to make Muffin lengthen his trot. "This isn't door-guarding now. You gotta keep up or fall behind, old man."

Trey's lip twitched, that first indication that he was about to go spare alerting him to his anger before he even felt it as an emotion. Able to control himself, but not beat his anger, he grabbed Yuffie's hand and tore it from his sleeve, winding his fingers through hers and twisting and squeezing.

Yuffie yelped, her middle finger cracking wrenching a scream out of her. Trey pulled her to his chest and clamped his free hand over her mouth, dropping Muffin's lead. The retriever sat down, watching them closely.

"Now," Trey began, hissing in Yuffie's ear, "we're going to get a few things straight. Number one, I've taken apart bigger and uglier than you. If it came down to it, I could snap you like a twig. Number two, I may be getting old, but that doesn't mean I'm worn out. You call me 'old man' again, I'll cut out your tongue and feed it to you raw. Understood?" Yuffie nodded, terrified. "Number three, you don't have to put up with me for long, so I don't have to put up with you for long. Stay away from me, and summer will touch both our lives for the rest of this trip. Capiche?" She nodded again. Trey loosened his grip on her fingers. "Number four and last, you mention this to anyone, you wormy little turd, and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do, clichéd as it may sound." He pushed her away. "Conseguir perdido."

Not about to hang around, she ran off after the others, Trey calmly selecting a restore from his silver armlet and casting a cure spell on her as she vanished down the steps. Nobody called him old except his nearest and dearest. It was the only thing stopping him from getting old; not hearing about it.

"'Spose it's got to happen sometime, Muffin." He told the dog, picking up his lead and setting off after Yuffie at his own leisurely pace. "Can only dodge rheumatism so long before it sneak attacks you from round a corner or snipes you with rheumatoid arthritis from a nearby rooftop." He wriggled the fingers of his right hand, sighing deeply at the nagging pain there. Shouldn't have been problems with them yet. He knew why there was -

"_You going to explain this sudden intrusion, Trey? Or do I have to guess, as always?" _

"_Explain? EXPLAIN? You want me to explain to you why I'm here? You must be the lowest form of shit not to know WHY, Richards." _

"_Enlighten me. After all, you're not going anywhere for a few minutes, are you?" _

"_Fuck you! All you want is to hear it from my mouth. If yer mooks didn't have me pinned to this table I'd tear you a new asshole then turn ya inside out and use you as a throw rug." _

"_Very creative. That's what I always liked about you, Trey. Your way with words." _

"_That's more 'way' than you'll ever get. My gecko gets more pussy than you." _

"_Fuck it. This is great. You're not in the Company anymore, Trey. At Shinra there are rules, things I can't do to ya. Here, you're a civillian. There are no rules. This can be easy. That's up to you. Just tell me what I want to hear, and it can be easy." _

"_Take a long walk off a short cliff, you maggoty sack of meat." _

"_Fine then. Number one-" _

Trey clenched his fist, biting back a whimper at the pain in his fingers. Richards went through them, one by one with a claw hammer until not one of them would move without coercion. They healed all right to look at, but were never quite the same. He never got back that snake like movement the other hand still had.

"Bastard was here now I'd castrate him and cauterize it with match." He looked up, halting in his tracks and narrowing his eyes.

One of those AVALANCHE guys leant against the wall, watching him. None of them looked quite 'normal', and this one took the biscuit and punted it unceremoniously out the window. He looked like something out of an old vampire movie, or maybe a villain from a silent movie, the ones that tie damsels in distress to train tracks and twiddle their moustaches while playing organs in the forest. The cape was the culprit in that. Then again, that claw didn't help matters. 'Wonder if he's got "made in Shinra, © Hojo" molded into the small of his back?'

A little unexpectedly, 'creepy' at the end of the street beckoned him on with a jerk of his head, and turned away, walking off with a swish of his cape. Trey smirked, "Come to bed, Trey." He chuckled, shaking his head and jogging to catch up, aware AVALANCHE were probably waiting for him. 'Those were come to bed eyes if ever there were some. He wants me, with that dramatic cape swishing. Peacock showing off it's ass clear as day is light and night's meant for sneaking.'

This whole thing could be quite fun, if his imagination continued to run away with him and entertain him like it was.

Quite a bit of fun.

---------

"Hello?" Evan sighed, snapping his phone closed and slotting it back into his belt. Someone had got through, but from an unknown number, and the connection had failed before anything could be said. Something must be wrong with the city's mast. He resumed buttoning his shirt.

Without power, the only way of washing clothes was to go out and fill a bucket with water and soap. Luckily Junon was equipped with spare uniforms in the Turks' living quarters. Rose would be glad of the spare flares he had picked up from her temporary residence. Each of them had their own style of dress, even though it was not allowed to stray too far from standard uniform. Rose liked her uniform with a largely flared leg and fitted shirt. He liked his shirts to have wide collars; didn't like the feeling of being strangled. Tessi liked heavy leather shoes with a double-buckled strap across the top. Quite why remained a mystery when he needed something light on his paddies.

Evan stopped himself, realising that he was trying to occupy his mind with trivial rubbish. Focus on the task at hand; that was what he had been taught, and a good lesson it was.

He halted at the medical bay door, frowning to see Rose missing from her bed. The previous few hours had been a lot of fun (though her note taking had been a bit disconcerting to begin with). It surprised him to see she made notes on his TTF tape. To do with rifle work apparently.

He smiled gently, spotting her suddenly. She lay beside Tseng on his bed, snuggled into his side, asleep. Evan leant against the door frame, folding Rose's flares over his arm. That was sweet to see. As long as she was comfortable.

"EVAN?" He froze, the echo of his name rebounding up the stairs and around the empty office outside the medical bay. He knew that voice... "WOO-OOH! EVAN? ROSE! ANYBODY AROUND!"

He bolted to the office door, "Tess!"

"Evan! HE'S ALIVE! HE'S ALIVE! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" There was another voice,

"Nice maniacal laugh there, Tess. Bravo." Only one man at Shinra could be so pleasant yet bitingly sarcastic at the same time. Reeve Tuesti. Tessi had brought Reeve with him. In all the hurry and commotion, Evan had forgotten to free Reeve. Good thing someone had their head screwed on right.

He hurried downstairs, frozen to the spot at the sight of his youngest colleague and Reeve, standing in the lobby, looking up at him. Seeing them was very different to hearing them.

Tessi spread his arms, "Evan! How're you, hun?"

"Glad you're alive. Rose and I have been trying to contact you, but we couldn't get through."

"Cell mast's down." He thumbed over his shoulder out the doorway. "Saw it as we flew overhead. Things mangled worse than a drunk spider."

"Junon's cut off by landline too." Reeve added, cradling his chin thoughtfully. "We're isolated, short of VHF radio. We may as well send out the pony express."

Evan reassured him, wandering down the stair to greet them, "We have everything we need here. It's dangerous outside, but this place is fortified, and equipped with all manner of anti-life form weaponry. We can wait the storm out here quite happily, then venture out and see what's what."

Tessi appeared to have stopped listening, staring off up the stairs in a sort of a daze. "Where's Rose?" He asked at last, looking back to Evan with that childlike expression in his eyes.

"Upstairs, in the medical bay. Tess-" Evan took him by the shoulders, looking him square in the eye, "Rose was quite badly hurt. She's fine, but quite badly scarred in places."

Tessi swallowed. "What places?"

"Her leg, and her face."

Somehow Tessi knew the answer before Evan even thought it. He took a breath, looking up at Evan for a bit of elaboration. Evan obliged, lowering his eyes to the toes of Tessi's shoes. "It looks worse now than it will. There's nothing much there besides a pink line, but if you know it's there..." He shook his head, "Just don't stare, whatever you do."

"I'll try not to, but sometimes you can't help it, even if it's just for a second."

"Do your best."

He knew even that was asking a lot, but there was no getting round it. Rose was going to be hurt by any less than neutral reaction from Tessi, and though he may try his best to ignore her injuries, inevitably some emotion would escape. Tessi was good at that, spurting emotion. Especially when it wasn't wanted.

With Reeve around there would be extra work to do. No doubt the man would be up on the roof as soon as day broke, examining the broken mast. Which one of them would he take with him? That was the question Evan didn't really want to broach right then. First thing, breaking the news to Rose that Tessi was alive...

(NOTE: Vinny and Trey. This is going to be fun. Heh, heh, heh! Something you have to remember about Trey, is that he's not a nice guy. He's a downright nasty piece of work. He does have a decent side, but is happier to be a complete and utter bastard than put effort into being nice. He's good to people he knows and loves, but Yuffie doesn't qualify yet, if she ever will.

Trey's companion, Nickel is Gun Male of Before Crisis. He was Don Corneo's bodyguard before becoming a Turk, so is Trey's natural old colleague. As Joe pointed out, their careers took opposite paths.)


	24. Chapter 24

_Blood 24: Plastic_

_There he was, Trey fucking Henson. Where did he get off strutting about the place like that? Leaning against a badly parked jeep and playing with his hair. _

_Richards stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, tossing the disposable lighter away to crack against the wall and eek fluid all over the alley floor. _

_Four days he had been watching Trey, tracing every miniscule movement the man made. The last two days Trey had been laid up in hospital, the nice old lady in the next apartment looking after the brat. _

_There was no point in doing things by halves. Every little thing Trey did had to be watched and recorded, kept until the time was right to make a move on him. Richards chuckled, realising suddenly why he had been kicked out of the police force. He was far too vengeful for a job like that. No, Trey Henson had it coming. _

_Heidegger had tried, and failed to rub him out earlier that week. Then, that man always had been too stupid to do things for himself, and sending those moronic MPs was the limit. "Fucking useless bastard doesn't know what he's sitting on. If I had his job, this place would be run a lot smoother." _

_Trey disappeared into the stairwell, on his way to his apartment. Richards darted across the street, keeping his distance as he edged slowly along the wall of Trey's building. That skinny red head had ears like a cat – if something was following him, he'd know it. Unless the person doing the following knew his little techniques, and how to get round them. _

_Richards halted beside the first step, looking up in alarm to see that Trey had stopped a few steps up and was rifling through his groceries. _

"_Fuck." Trey murmured, setting the bag down on the step in front of him and checking his waistcoat pockets. "All outta cigs. Shoulda checked when you were there. Dumbass." He turned and wandered back down the stairs onto the street, looking around in confusion. 'Somebody around or something? Nah, just your imagination, kid. Coulda sworn though...' Shaking his head, he started off down the street towards the off license. _

_Richards watched him from under the jeep. "Cigarettes'll kill ya, Henson." He smirked, crawling out onto the pavement and making for the stairwell. _

_Trey was very trusting, leaving his groceries out like that. Then again, he did live in the safest sector. Crime in the area was just about nil. 'They know this is Turk territory.' Richards thought, pulling something putty out of his pocket and sticking it at the bottom of the bag. _

"_Thought I heard a rat." Trey stood behind him, leaning against the wall with a length of pipe in one hand. Richards glared round at him, attempting to mask his surprise. _

"_You ought to learn to watch that mouth of yours, Henson." _

"_Why? It doing something interesting?" _

_All those years working around Trey, the thing that pissed Richards off the most was that mouth! Snarling deep in his throat, he swung for Trey, the red head stepping back and swinging with his pipe. Richards knew he would do that, feinting and bringing his fist back with a jerk, his knuckles meeting Trey's pipe halfway with a metallic clang. _

_Trey jumped back, "Shit!" 'Didn't even flinch!' _

_Richards looked at him, massaging his knuckles in a series of horrific cracks. None of his Turks had seen him fight before, only felt the occasional punch. Even that had felt like a sledgehammer to the guts. Trey ducked, narrowly avoiding a punch, grabbing Richards' wrist and redirecting the blow into the brick wall. Again the man didn't flinch, rounding on Trey and smacking him in the stomach, sending him flying onto the jeep's bonnet. _

_Trey gasped, trying desperately to get some air into his lungs. He squirmed, his head swimming as he was lifted off the bonnet and up level with Richards' face. "You don't know what hit you, do ya?" _

_He didn't respond, unable to speak. Richards shook his head, flinging him over his shoulder to hit the apartment building wall and land on his front on the pavement below. "You really are pathetic, Henson! Look at you!" _

_Trey didn't say anything, attempting to drag himself along the floor, away from there. "Where you going?" Richards grabbed the back of his shirt, lifting him off the floor to look him in the eye. "Bet you wish you weren't so fucking skinny now, huh?" _

_No chance was given for an answer, Trey hitting the floor again, his cheek connecting with the cold paving slabs. Richards laughed out loud, stepping on his back. "Get out of this one if you can. You little worm!" _

_The strangled choke from the pitiful little red head was enough for the time being, Richards taking his foot away and wandering off to pick up his putty from the grocery bag. No point in sneakiness now. Much more satisfying to stick it in Trey's mouth and tape it up. _

_Trey curled into a ball on his side, fighting back tears. It had been a long time since he hurt this much, even crashing Lilly the other day. His injured leg throbbed, refusing to move with the rest of him and staying stretched out on the pavement. He couldn't stay there; Richards would kill him. Choking back a sob, he selected his restore materia and cast a quick cure spell on himself. At once he began to feel stronger, dragging himself over to a lamppost and pulling himself to his feet. He cast another cure spell, his leg healing almost immediately. Richards was strong, but none too bright. Fucking moron hadn't even checked him for materia before walking away. _

_Still aching a little, he leant against the lamppost, catching his breath. _

_He didn't have long, Richards returning with something in his hand. Trey flinched, the look on his e enemy's face saying it all. _

_How could this be? 'I beat the little shit to within an inch of his life!' Rage overtaking him, Richards ran at Trey. He found himself punching air, looking up to see Trey scaling the lamppost like a spider monkey to leap off and grab the ledge outside his neighbour's window. _

_Trey squirmed out of his shirt, wrapping it around his hand and punching through the window. Richards faltered, watching almost dumbstruck Trey pull a large shard of glass out of the frame and hop down into the street to face him. _

"_You want to take me on, Richards, we do it this way." _

"_Oh? You'd take on an unarmed man?" _

_Trey blew a strand of hair out of his face, "Hardly." and nodded at Richards' hands, "What's in the knuckles?" _

_Damn he was perceptive. "I used to be on the force before the Turks. Was with the bomb squad." He clenched and unclenched his fist, looking at it with a smile. "They used to call me Butterfingers." _

"_Figures." _

"_They put in plates before kicking me out. Handy really." _

"_Not funny." Trey made a move, dashing straight at Richards with the glass clenched in his hand. It was then he saw the putty between the bastard's fingers... _

(NOTE: Is bot not working, or is it just me? If not, that's rather miffifying. This chapter is going somewhere, don't worry ;)

Right, Darth Noir – I haven't played DoC, but I know the story well. I'm naughty that way :p Thanks for your offer. That was really nice of you. I do want to say thanks for your reviews and enjoyment of this story. Your encouragement is really helping. Same to Just Jill again! You two are wonderful!

KAOS – This is the third revision of this fic, and I changed a lot of it already. It's about three years old. The Vincent from Wutai thing was from the first draft. I kept it in this one because of the way I write him and Yuffie, - and the background it gave him in the original draft - It gives them some common ground and something to talk about. Yuffie didn't look particularly Japanese in FFVII (In fact I always thought she looked uncannily like a friend of mine, and I mean to a scary degree, and she's Welsh). Sorry, getting a bit long-winded. Thanks for the compliment though :)

Darth Noir & KAOS – It wasn't AU originally because it does follow the timeline so well, but with the compilation, I wanted more space to play around and get the feel I wanted without worrying about niggly details. The extra leeway feels like breathing space, which I have when I write as work, which brings out a more natural feel. I like to feel as though I'm reading back to myself aloud when I read over what I've done. Voice is very important to me.

Whew!)


	25. Chapter 25

Blood: 25

Trey Henson versus Vincent Valentine

---------

A soft touch on her shoulder woke Rose from her dreams. She yawned, taking a moment to clear her head before looking up. Evan stood over her, his hand still resting on her shoulder. He looked less tired than last she saw him, which must be a good thing. "Hello Evan."

"Rose. Sorry to wake you, but I thought you'd like to know there's someone here to see you."

She was surprised, and a little confused as she sat up, wrinkling her nose in thought. Her mouth fell open at the sight of Tessi leaning in the medical bay doorway. "Tess?"

He waved, forcing a smile. As Evan had predicted, he couldn't keep his eyes off her scar. Rose looked away from him, hastily covering her face with one hand. Tessi cleared his throat, looking up at the fluorescent ceiling lights. "I'm glad you're okay. I thought you and Evan had kicked it. Especially after I couldn't find you."

"We're lucky people." Rose answered bitterly, swinging her legs round to settle her feet on the floor and get up. Evan stuck his hands in his pockets, taking a step back. He knew she would only glare at him if he offered help. She stood shakily and flexed her injured foot a few times, dropping her hand away from her face. "Let's get it out in the open, Tess, so we don't have to address it again. I'm a mess at the moment. What we need is a materiologist, but we don't have one so I'm stuck healing naturally. I'm going to be messy until my body's done recovering, so get used to it. I have to. Whatever you want to say about it, say it now."

Tessi shook his head, turning in the doorway to lean his back against the door frame. Evan looked from one subordinate to the other. This would be tougher than he first thought. "Right," he began, "Now that the three of us are here, we can decide what to do next. I'm guessing that Reeve will want to get up on the roof and see to the mast. Honestly, I'm not looking forward to helping him, and if I'm wrong about his intentions, then we'll have to do it ourselves. We can't continue here without some variety of communication with the outside world." He looked at Tessi, "On top of that we have the problem of power. The generators haven't kicked in yet, or are broken. Tess, once we deal with that, I want you to get to work on the computer system. See if you can find anything on there that can help us with a more permanent power situation-"

"You know as well as I do that the first place to check is the underwater reactor." Tessi interrupted him, fixing him with a sharp look that made him shiver.

"I know. I meant after checking it out."

"It's also possible that someone back at Midgar instigated operation 'Clean Sweep'. There may be nothing on the system to find."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Tess."

"God dammit Evan!" Tessi cried, unable to contain it any longer. "You think there's any point in any of this? The only reason I came here was to see if I could find you two."

"What do you suggest we do, Tessi?" Evan snarled back.

"Go home and sort ourselves out! What the hell are we doing here anyway? What are you trying to prove?" He looked around the medical bay, "Shinra's finished. We don't have jobs anymore, so there's no obligation to do anything here. I say we get out before we're in too deep with promises and trouble and make our own way in this mess." Taking a breath, he looked at Rose. "What do you say? We find somewhere, less troublesome to be."

Rose was silent, grounding her stare away from Tessi. She knew what she wanted to do. "Evan is our superior, he'll decide on the best course of action."

"That's right. I forgot you'd been with the Company so long you were brainwashed out of thinking for yourself. Guess you didn't pick up the military academy sense most of us did." Shaking his head, Tessi left the room.

"Little bastard." Evan murmured, looking at the ground. "Maybe he should just fuck off, do us all a favour."

"He just can't see the point in working for free." Rose said suddenly, walking across to pick up her holster from the empty examination table. "You know as well as I do he's never really grown up."

"It's about time he did. We can't go through life behaving like children. I – what are you doing?"

Rose halted at the doorway, looking over her shoulder in surprise. "I was going to have a look at the generators, like you said."

Evan shook his head, "I didn't mean you."

"Why not?"

"Because you're hurt."

Rose looked at him quizzically a second. She breathed a deep sigh and continued out the door. Evan frowned, looking at his hands, "Am I invisible or something?" He coughed. "I suppose I must be. No one takes any notice of me." Resigned, he swept out of the medical bay on a heading for the power room.

---------

All the way across the square she clung to Cid's jacket, peering back over her shoulder at Trey. He was tormenting her on purpose now, she could see it in his eyes. Yeah, he acted like she didn't matter right then, but behind that calm exterior worked the mind of a madman. Who knew what he was planning, or how she would match his machinations. The point remained that he was bad news, and was pressing her not to say anything to Cloud. Maybe if she told Cloud, he'd get Barret and the Old Man to beat his ass into the ground. THEN he'd leave her alone. She jumped, Trey looking straight at her suddenly.

'Why in the hell is she staring at me?' He wondered, taking a cigarette from his pocket and sticking it in his mouth. 'Could have something to do with wrecking her hand earlier, but she brought it on herself. Damn, my conscience is working over time. How much shaming does it take to get over it. Damn society and laws.'

Cloud had split everyone up into groups. Somehow, he had ended up with the pilot guy, obnoxious ninja brat and freaky sexual cape guy. 'Why do I get myself into these things? I should have volunteered to do this on my own.' After all, how hard was it to check the place out? Kalm wasn't that big; just a cute little mining town that made good beer etc. "If you guys don't mind, I'm going to check out that little tunnel over there."

Cid chuckled at that, prising Yuffie off his jacket and grinning round at Trey with such intensity the red head stopped in his tracks. "You beat me to it."

Trey sniffed, straightening his waistcoat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. "I don't know what you mean."

"C'mon. You know as well as I do that 'little tunnel' is a bar."

"People could be in trouble there! I'm thinking of no one but myself, and here you are insinuating that I'd leave people choking to death in rubble while I drink myself sick! I despair of people like you. They all disgust me."

"Yeah," Yuffie screeched, dashing round in front of Cid and pointing her finger in Trey's face, "You disgust me! Where do you get off lying like you do?" She glared over her shoulder at a sarcastic cough, pinpointing the source as Vincent, "and you can shut up too! I lie for a good cause." He didn't say anything to that, shaking his head and wandering off towards the bar.

Cid scratched his head, sighing as Yuffie retreated to safety behind him once again. "Looks like he's got the same idea as you." He murmured to Trey. "Get going then."

There was no need to tell him twice, Trey taking off at the jog-trot across the square. Yuffie immediately let go of Cid, brushing herself down as though ridding herself of dirt. "He's taking all of you for a ride." She hissed, putting on her most condescending frown.

"Oh yeah? And how would you know?" Cid demanded, smoothing the creases out of his jacket. Yuffie could feel her face turning red. Was she really about to say this?

"He threatened me. And broke my fingers too!" She squeaked in surprise, Cid snatching hold of her hand and wiggling each of her fingers in turn.

"Yup. They're smashed to smithereens."

"No!" She snatched her hand away from him, cradling it protectively against her chest. "He cast cure on me after," and glared across the square at Trey's back, narrowing her eyes into thin slits, "to cover up – so he could hide the evidence."

"You really are a poisonous little bitch, aren't ya?"

"What? No!" She grabbed Cid's jacket, shaking it violently. "I'm telling the truth!"

"Sure you are. Just like you were telling us the truth about that lever in your basement. I tell ya now that I didn't enjoy being caged, and Vincent's probably been locked up enough in his lifetime. Why should I believe a damn word you say?"

"Because I'm not lying!"

"Sure. Get the fuck outta my way, Princess." He barged past her and sauntered off towards a group of locals, leaving a trail of blue smoke in his wake. Yuffie stared after him, folding her arms around herself and hopping on the spot.

"You don't know." She said quietly to herself. "You all think Trey's great. He's some kind of saint or something. I'll show you. I'll show all of you." She narrowed her gaze on Cid's back, wishing she could burn a hole through him with red eye beams or something, "Especially you, Old Man. I'll show you the most!" Her heart leapt into her mouth suddenly as Cid turned round to face her,

"You say something, bitch?"

"Noughtta!" She called back cheerily, waving at him, still hopping on the spot.

Muttering under his breath, Cid spun on his heel and strode away. Yuffie glared after him, her mind escaping her as she spotted his Shiva materia in his Venus Gospel. Just for embarrassing her like that she'd take it when he wasn't looking, then deny all knowledge of it. He'd know she was behind its disappearance, but he couldn't prove it. Just his knowing she'd taken it would be enough of a laugh.

She shook her head clear, focusing back on the task at hand: how to discredit Trey and get him kicked out of the group...

---------

"Where are you going?"

Tessi halted, hissing a sigh through his teeth. "Away from here."

Reeve looked thoughtful, sitting on the floor against the wall under the stairs. "So you're not staying around to help me fix the mast?" He stroked his beard, looking up at the underside of the staircase. "Or to help me restore power to this town?"

Tessi breathed deep, resigning himself momentarily and wandering over to sit beside Reeve. "You've been talking to Evan."

"No."

"Then you have the same ideas as him buzzing round your skull."

"Great minds think alike."

Stretching one leg out straight along the floor, Tessi asked, "All right. What's your proposal?"

Reeve was alive suddenly sitting up and composing himself. "I want to get that dammed mast fixed. Then we can see about getting a team here from outside to fix the energy crisis that's brewing."

"I get what from this?"

"The satisfaction of knowing you've done a good deed. What's Evan's take on the situation?"

"To see what we can do about temporary power, then have me and you look for a real solution on the network."

"Unless Heidegger or Scarlet pressed delete." Reeve mused.

"You mean 'Clean Sweep'? I've already tackled that possibility."

"Oh? How?"

Tessi tapped his head, "In here. If some thoughtful individual has ensured there's nothing to find, we crack the secure network."

Now Reeve really took notice, a look of confusion crossing his face. "We can't do that. We need Rufus to succeed, let alone attempt it."

"I know that."

"Then why are you suggesting it?"

"Because it's a computer network. Even the most heavily defended have a way through. It's my job to find said way." Reeve's chuckle annoyed him, "What's so funny?"

"So, you're going to make yourself into Rufus?"

"As far as the network's concerned, yes."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Tessi's confidence completely destroyed, Reeve stood up. He hesitated a moment, offering his hand to the downhearted Turk. "Look. If anyone can do it, I'd put my money on you. God, I'll even help you to the best of my abilities. For the minute, let's just pray it doesn't come to that."

Tessi took his hand, and got to his feet. "As long as you'll help me if the avenue need be explored."

Reeve opened his mouth to answer, words failing him at a rumbling sound above. Tessi looked up, "What?"

---------

Trey faltered, glancing back down the tunnel to see rain splashing down onto the cobbled square. The drops were huge, already forming a small river in the gutter outside. "What the hell?" He shook his head. "Screwy weather. Dammed Meteor." A beer would chase away his woes.

Turning on one heel, he halted dead, his mouth hanging open in surprise to find himself face to face with Cid's creepy friend. The two of them were silent, neither man sure what to say. At last, Trey cleared his throat and spat on the floor to one side. "Weird weather, huh?"

Vincent nodded. "An after effect of Meteor and Holy."

"Yeah." Something snapped. "Say that again."

"What?"

"Anything."

"Excuse me?"

"That'll do."

Vincent scratched his head, knitting his brows into a deep frown. "You worry me sometimes."

Trey beckoned to him. "C'mere." A little apprehensive, Vincent obeyed.

To his surprise Trey grabbed his fringe and held it up. The red head took a deep breath. "Well God damn."

"Nice to see you again too." Vincent muttered, pulling his hair away and smoothing it. He ducked suddenly, Trey leaping at him, fists clenched. Without thinking, he fell on his back and stuck one foot in Trey's belly to throw him over onto the floor. Trey landed on his feet, already spinning round to go for his friend's throat.

"You have any idea what you put me through!?" He yelled, swinging for Vincent's cheek, yelping to find himself on his knees, one arm braced up behind his back. "What the hell? Since when could you out move me?"

"Unwanted ability." Vincent muttered, tightening his grip on Trey's arm. "If I let you up, will you try and tear my throat out again?"

"Not guaranteeing anything. Might bash your face in instead." He choked, the pressure on his arm increasing. "All right. I'll leave out the hurting."

Satisfied, Vincent let him up. Trey dusted himself down, searching for a fresh cigarette in his pocket. "Don't know what you were doing all this time. Haven't lost your touch."

"From what you said just now I thought I had improved."

"If that means you're better than me you can go fuck a tree. You caught me off guard. I have the age disadvantage. You beat me in any way and it's beating the aged. I got a pension from the Company before Rufus got his hands on it."

"You had a job."

"Never declared it to old man Shinra. Still got a quarter of my annual salary."

Vincent shook his head clear, taking hold of Trey's sleeve and pulling him over to one side of the tunnel. "Trey, what are you doing with Cloud and friends?"

"Dunno what you mean."

"You aren't exactly brimming with the milk of human kindness."

"I think my character just deformed."

"Trey. I know you, and I know when you're up to something. You didn't tell the others that you're an ex-Turk."

"And? Would you like me to show them my driver's license and birth certificate? Oh wait, I don't have one."

Though Trey kept his voice low and steady, it was obvious to Vincent that he was seething. "I can't let you mess with them, Trey. I won't let you."

"What are you going to do? Give Cloud a detailed description of what we used to do? I think he's well aware."

"Yuffie is already well on her way to devising some plan for ejecting you from the group, I'm certain of it."

Trey looked over his shoulder, then under one arm. "You know. I had a sudden pain in my back then. Felt something like a knife."

Vincent sighed, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "It's not like that."

"Then clarify for me. As far as I can see, you don't trust me anymore."

"Times have changed."

"Tell me about it." Sniffing, Trey looked away, cursing inwardly that Vincent may think he was crying. "I need a drink."

"I'll buy you one."

"Keep your backstabbery money! I'll buy one myself." Feeling betrayed, he pushed past Vincent and started down the tunnel towards the bar. He halted suddenly, turning to look at Vincent with a look of pure rage. "I've been keeping things for the past twenty-seven years. From now on, I'm keeping nothing and saying everything if someone asks."

Vincent frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about what's important in this life. More important than saving face. I did something nasty for you. Something I don't regret for a second, but it could have ruined a few lives. Lucky for you it didn't."

Trey had always been difficult to understand, but nowadays it seemed he had lost the plot completely. "You'll have to explain yourself." Vincent sighed, a little annoyed.

"You ever wondered where..." Trey trailed off, suddenly aware of the blank expression on his friend's face. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what."

"I thought after everything, she'd have said something." Trey appeared to be talking to himself, leaving Vincent feeling a little spare. Almost as though he had forgotten Vincent was there, Trey took his phone from his pocket and flipped it open to check his messages.

"Earlier, back at Midgar," Vincent caught his attention, "You were looking for Reno, weren't you?"

Trey almost dropped his phone. "Why? You know something." and rushed down the tunnel to grab Vincent's cape and drag him almost up to eye-level.

"I saw him, and the other Turks in the train tunnels back at Midgar."

"When?"

"Before Meteor fell, when Hojo went insane on the Sister ray."

Trey was frantic, "How was he? Did he say anything?"

Vincent snatched his cape away from him and dusted down his chest. "Nothing that gave any indication of where he was going."

"Dammit." Trey turned away, scrolling through his messages again. Plenty from women he knew, and Brandy the HoneyBee, but nothing from Reno, or - "When you saw Reno, was there a girl Turk with him?"

"Elena?"

He slapped his head, suddenly irritable. "No, not Elena. A pretty girl, quite short, long black hair, green eyes, gunslinger?"

"Green eyes and black hair? Unusual combination."

"Why, you think it's pretty?" The tone of voice in which Trey asked that question caught Vincent off guard.

"Possibly."

"Uh huh. Did you see her?"

"No."

"Positive?"

"Absolutely."

"Dammit." Again Trey began looking through his messages, closing his phone and hurling it against the wall in a rage. Vincent didn't know what to say, deducing that his friend was looking for messages from Reno, and possibly this other girl. Upset, Trey hid his face in his hands and slid down to sit against the wall. "They could at least of called."

"This 'girl Turk', is she your..." Vincent trailed off, feeling a little stupid for even suggesting it, even more so at the croaky laugh from Trey.

"Vinny, when have you ever known me to have a steady girlfriend? Besides-" He took his hands away from his face and pushed himself into a more comfortable position against the tunnel wall, "If I even thought about it her dad would shoot me." He looked at his phone, laying open on its side next to the gutter and emitting a green glow onto the filthy water. "Just wish the little bastards would call."

Vincent stared at it, fascinated by the faint flickering on the rushing water. He snapped to attention, leaping backwards as Trey scrambled to his feet, swiping at his backside.

"Gah! I have a wet ass." The red head turned around, looking over his shoulder and sticking his backside out to see what the damage was. "Shit I didn't bring any spare underwear." He straightened up. "I didn't bring any spare anything."

Vincent chuckled. "The rest of us have learnt not to sit on wet ground by now."

"How're you getting by? It's sick wearing the same underwear everyday." The look on Vincent's face said it all, his pale cheeks flushing red. A broad grin broke out across Trey's face. "You go commando. I totally forgot about that!"

"It's not that important for you to have remembered it all these years."

"Not important? I hear while you were away in that stick town, the copy room girls were calling you Captain Valentine!"

"Not Vincent the Vindictive?"

"Nah. They though the idea of your naked butt much more of a laugh." Attempting a demure appearance, Trey stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. Vincent was puzzled.

"How could they know I don't-" Trey's stifled sniggers answered his question for him. "I see."

"What? All those trips back to HQ as a civvie, I had to keep myself in laughs somehow. Even if you had pulled a disappearing act."

"You told the women in the copy room one of a dead man's most closely guarded secrets?"

"One... or two. Depending on how you look at it."

The sight of Trey breaking down in the tunnel was so familiar Vincent had to remind himself of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. He cleared his throat and stood straight, trying to look a little less embarrassed. "We have a job to do."

Trey composed himself a little, still holding back snickers. "Yeah." He glanced at Vincent and began smoothing his own fringe. "You might want to fix your hair there. It's messed up more than usual." He looked a little embarrassed, blushing. "Must have happened when I tried to strangulate you a bit ago. Sorry about that."

"You're emotional, Trey. It's part of your persona."

"Yah. Guess so. You know something? I'm really hungry." He received now answer to that, Vincent already walking off down the tunnel. "Hey!" He snatched his phone and ran after him. "That thing earlier about using mush head and the rocketts... It's nothing bad, okay. I have something I need to do in Junon."

"What?"

Trey opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut, shaking his head gently. "I can't say anything. It's kind of a favour for a friend, but in confidence, if you see what I mean."

"Not really. No."

"Vinny. You can't tell anyone about me. It doesn't matter what you say – if it's something about my past, they'll toss me outta the group before I can snap my fingers twice. If they knew who I am-"

"I understand. None of them have any particular love for Reno."

"After what he did, I'm not surprised."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't have?"

"Dropped the plate? Yeah, but not without serious reservations."

"Reno had no qualms about it?"

"Of course he did. Nobody saw him the night before. No one knows where he went, but he turned up just in time and pressed that button." The look on Trey's face puzzled Vincent. Despite what he had just said, he looked angry. The reason why was suddenly clear. "I was waiting for him back at HQ, that overstuffed nonce Heidegger guffawing in my ear. Then they wheeled him in on a crash trolley, I thought 'oh shit he's gonna die'." Without warning he spun round and punched the wall, his knuckles cracking loudly against the stone. "Right then I coulda and woulda wrung Cloud's neck. I wanted to tear him apart with my own bare hands and sell the pieces for fertiliser." He drew his hand back and proceeded to massage his bleeding knuckles close to his chest, considerably calmer and more composed, "Then he stuck his finger in his mouth, sat up and stuck it in Evan's ear. I knew everything would be fine then. That relief is like getting caught in an undercurrent. First you're so scared you can't move, then as the minutes go by, and you're dragged further down, you feel calm, so calm that you stop struggling and let the current take you away. That's when the fear gives way to relief and you can breathe again. At that point you would drown, but forgetting the underwater thing, everything's fine and you're drunk on air."

"I think I understand."

"Roundabout way of explaining it, huh? Only way I could think of." He breathed deep, as though reliving that moment. "I kind of know how brat boy was feeling. You remember the worst thing you ever had to do? I certainly do. The funny thing is, at the moment I did it, I felt more alive than I ever did."

"What was it?"

"Before you joined up, the President paid me to do a little extra curricular activity. He had someone he wanted 'removed from play', and told me to use my imagination and make it as shiny as possible, ward other people off crossing him. So I stuck his head in a combine harvester. The thing that scares me is how much I enjoyed it. I was soaked in blood and other stuff that comes outta people, but I was laughing, because it felt good to know that I could do that to someone." His expression was unusually sullen; it forced a cold feeling in the pit of Vincent's stomach. He continued, "At the time it gave me a kick I never found anywhere else, but that night... things started to sink in. Like just what that guy must have felt when the header came down the first time, he felt it. The second one killed him, but that pain must have been... So I couldn't get it out of my head. I showered nine or ten times trying to get the feeling of blood off me, but it wouldn't go. It took months for me to get over it."

Vincent was silent. Trey would torture someone almost until the point of death, but would never finish them off himself. Interesting...

"I guess Reno felt the same way. He's a professional little turkey, but we all break sometimes." Trey said, taking his cigarette between two fingers and flicking it away into the gutter. "He got over it quick, but I think that scares me more than if he went nuts."

Sighing, Vincent continued on into the square. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, Trey, but no funny business."

"Roger. No mentalism."

"In agreement?"

"Si."

"Right then." Vincent composed himself. "Let's find Yuffie and Cid."

(Note: Long delay I know, but now my uni work is done and I'm free until February next year. So updates should be more regular than they have been. I know this is the one you guys were waiting for, so here it is at last: Trey and Vinny reunited. A mixed bag I would say – angry Trey versus modified Vinny etc, but he is a fiesty little red head who has PMS as far as I can see :d

Vincent may seem a little out of character here, but that's because he's surprised a lot of the time, so don't hate me runs away a little to avoid hittings

I love scheming Yuffie. In all the time I've been writing her, she's never changed. I have another fic salvaged from an ancient hard drive called 'Seven days'. It's one big drunken Turkfest and Yuffie versus Cid deathmatch. Once I've read over and edited it, I'll start posting it.

On another note, I have a new Deviant ID! It's me and Trey.)


	26. Chapter 26

Blood: 26

Pain

_Nibelheim: A small village nestling quietly at the foot of the Nibel mountain range, notable for the lack of anything ever having happened there. Just the sort of place Marlon J Kennedy would want to spend several months looking after scientists. Surprisingly enough there was a spring in his step as he climbed the steps to the mansion, lugging his suitcase with him. _

_He had to stop and admire the view, leaning on the iron gate and looking the mansion over with an appreciative eye. Quite impressive compared to the concrete high rises back in Midgar. Admittedly he had always had an eye for old-style architecture – real stone and timber, so getting away to this place was a rare treat. _

_'Enough of that,' he scolded himself, 'This isn't a vacation. I'm here to work.' He had sent request after request to Heidegger, asking to be assigned to protection duties at Nibelheim with Vincent. Eventually, he had been summoned to the Peace Preservation department. _

"Marlon, if I let you go, will you promise not to bother me for at least six months when you get back?"

"Of course, sir. Your wish is my command."

"Excellent. Get lost and take your time coming back."

_For some reason Heidegger's eagerness to get rid of him felt like a compliment. Possibly to his nagging abilities, but whatever. It had to be done; the weekly phone calls from Vincent having subsided for a time, then started again, becoming more frequent until there was one almost every day. Why Vincent should be so interested in what went on back at Midgar, Marlon had no idea. He supposed his friend was just sick for friendly company or something. 'After all, since Trey left the place has been a bit dead. As much as I love Veld, he's too serious about everything.' _

_Grinning at the thought of Veld awash in seas of unnecessary paperwork, Marlon pushed the gate open, surprised as it gave a high-pitched squeak. Amused, he closed it and opened it again, grinning at the sound. _

"_Some people are easily pleased." _

_Startled, he looked around, focusing on Vincent leaning against the fir tree in the garden. Embarrassed, Marlon cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on his suitcase. "Sorry, Vince. You know me and squeaky things." _

"_Unfortunately." The venom in his tone surprised Marlon. _

"_'Scuse me, but is something wrong?" _

"_Nothing for you to concern yourself over." Vincent sighed suddenly, realising that he should moderate his behaviour. "Sorry Marlon. It's been a rough couple of weeks." _

"_Oh. Want to talk about it?" _

"_No." He started towards the mansion, arms still folded tight across his chest. "Come on." _

_Without a word, Marlon opened the gate and followed, his light mood lost in the dark cloud following Vincent around. This whole thing suddenly felt like a bad idea and he wished he'd never thought of it. _

_--------- _

_The mansion's interior was surprisingly drab, dragging Marlon's mood down even further. He supposed there was no point in decorating a research facility in bright, airy colours when all it would be used for was work. "Trey's in hospital." He told Vincent, the two of them climbing the stairs. _

"_Do I really care what he's done to himself this time?" _

"_He hasn't done anything to himself. We were called out with a team of Military Police to scrape him off the ground." Vincent looked over his shoulder down the stairs at his friend, apparently taking interest. Marlon took it as cue to continue. "I didn't know what to expect, just that it had something to do with us Turks. I thought that meant Trey alone, except when we got there, Trey was on the floor against that lamppost outside his building, with Richards unconscious on the floor in front of him." That was enough to stop Vincent on the top stair. He leant against the banister, clearly shocked at the news. _

"_What happened?" _

"_Simple. Trey pulverised him." _

"_How?" _

"_No one's sure. Trey's not saying much and Richards can't say anything at all yet. He's not woken up." _

"_Hell." Vincent wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't imagine what the fight must have been like. It had been threatening to happen for years, but now? Of course. Trey was a civilian, there was nothing protecting his life that Richards couldn't bypass. "What's wrong with Trey?" _

"_First degree burns to one of his hands. God only knows what they were doing, but I'm guessing it involved one of Richards' firecrackers. Like I said, no one can get anything out of Trey about what went on. We can only guess." _

"_When Richards does wake up, there's going to be hell to pay." _

"_And Trey's the one in debt." _

_This was bad news. If Trey and Richards had both finally snapped, then this feud would not simply go away. Neither man was known for even temperedness and forgiveness. Whatever Trey had started, it would get worse before it got better. Nobody had even lain Richards out before; when he woke up he would be outraged. There was no better way to get under his skin that to undermine his authority, or even worse, make him look weak. _

_These thoughts troubled Vincent all the way down the corridor to his bedroom. Though he liked to pretend otherwise, he had a lot of respect for Trey, stemming more from the way he could bounce back from anything and seem indestructible than his longer service with the Company. How could someone survive such dangerous situations time and again and come away with minor injuries compared to potential damage? _

_He wanted to shake his head just thinking about it, but chose to hide his feelings. Marlon didn't need to know what he really thought of Trey. Without a word, he opened his bedroom door and crossed to his own bed, collapsing on his back and clasping his hands on his belly. "This is my bed. Remember that." He told Marlon in a slightly strained voice as he fought off a yawn. _

"_Uh huh." Marlon tossed his case on the end of the spare bed and gazed at his friend. Now that I'm all settled in, you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" _

"_Why should something be wrong?" _

_Vincent's innocent little question took Marlon by surprise. "Because if I didn't know you I'd just think you were a grumpy bastard." He took a seat on his bed, drawing his knees up to his chest. "What's happened?" _

_Vincent rolled over, leaning up on his elbow to glare full force at his friend. "I told you. Nothing is wrong. Now please stop asking." _

"_Vince-"_

"_Nothing is wrong! Why do you have to be so pig-headed? If I say stop asking, damn well stop it!" With that, he turned over and tucked his hands under the pillow. _

_Marlon took a breath and straightened his jacket. Whatever was on Vincent's mind must be a doozy to strip him of his patience. The man had the patience of a saint normally, but tended to let things eat away at him; bottle his feelings up inside until there was no more space and they all burst out in a fit of rage. _

_There used to be a glass coffee table in the Turks' office. No longer as one of Vincent's temper tantrums ended with his fist bandaged and splinters of glass in the carpet... _

"_She rejected me." Nothing more than a whisper - Marlon was unsure he heard anything. _

"_You said something, Vince?" _

"_Lucrecia. She rejected me." Sitting up, Vincent looked over at Marlon, his eyes redder than usual. "Lucrecia rejected me and went off with Hojo." _

"_Vince-"_

"_There's more." He cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling to hide his tears, "She's pregnant, and they're going to use the baby as the test subject in this project." _

"_I..." Marlon didn't know what to say, staring at Vincent in disbelief. "Can they do that?" _

"_It's their child, they can do what they want with it, I suppose." _

"_Surely there's laws against this?" Vincent merely shrugged in answer, lying down on his side away from Marlon and closing his eyes. "What about you? Are you going to do anything about it?" The lack of answer surprised Marlon. In all Vincent's calls he would talk almost endlessly about Lucrecia. He had never said that they were together, but it was always implied and taken as true. _

"_As long as she's happy. That's all that matters to me." _

"_Vincent." _

"_She's a scientist, and this is what she wants. I wanted to know she was sure. She told me, 'if this only concerns me then yes, I'm sure.' What she does is up to her. I'm not going to get in the way of her ambitions." _

"_There's ambition, and then there's this." _

_Vincent sat up quickly, "You're questioning her? If she wants to go through with it then she can do what she wants! She knows what she's doing, she's not stupid!" _

"_I'm not saying she is-" _

"_Then what? That she's cruel!" _

_Marlon was silent for some time, staring at the bedspread, twisting it up between the fingers of one hand. At last he looked Vincent in the eye, "You need me to tell you? Look at yourself." _

"_You don't..." Vincent trailed off, lowering his eyes to the floorboards. What could he say? Right then his head agreed with Marlon, no matter what his heart wanted. Beaten, he rolled over to face the wall again. Marlon didn't know the whole story. He was looking at things with an outsider's eyes, he couldn't know what had happened, or why. 'She's blaming herself for something I've already forgiven her for. I can't stop her from doing that, anymore than I can stop her from doing this. I have no say in what they do. I'm just here to keep an eye on her. I can't protect her from herself.' _

_He looked round suddenly, the bedroom door closing snatching his attention. Marlon had left him to himself. Really and truly there was no blaming him. 'I acted like a bastard, but he has to understand. I love her, and there's nothing I can do about that. There's nothing I would do about it. I just want her to be happy. If that's at the expense of my own happiness, then so be it.' feeling warm tears on his cheeks, he drew his knees up to his chest and turned his face into the pillow. _

(NOTE: I left out the whole 'It's all my fault' bit because we all know what happened, and probably why also by now. I will expand on it and go back to it in future chapters, but for now I wanted to deal more with the aftermath of Lucrecia's rejecting him. On a slightly lighter note, anybody spot the quote?

There's an up to date picture of Trey on deviantART for those that are interested. When I was colouring it earlier this evening, I suddenly realised that he is unbelievably sexy. I know he's supposed to be, but I didn't realise he was THAT sexy. I said to my friend Squirrel on MSN that I'd suffered a bit of a shock and told her what. She said 'You only JUST noticed?' I couldn't believe it! Anyway, enough from me tell me what you thought please.)


	27. Chapter 27

Blood 27:

Making up

"This thing is fried."

Evan exhaled sharply at Rose's conclusion, raking his hands through his hair and walking away a few steps. "Can it be saved at all?"

"Not with my skills." Rose sat back, wiping her hands over with a rag. "I'm no mechanic, but even I can see this is going to require major surgery."

"So we're screwed."

"Basically. Unless you can find an engine doctor."

Evan cast a glance down the corridor, not favouring the idea of going outside at all, let alone to interact with the populace. "Don't like the sound of that rain." He changed the subject.

"Sounds like wild horses on the roof."

"Tap dancing wild horses, maybe." Rose didn't answer, stiffly getting to her feet and flexing her ankle. Evan was concerned. "Maybe you shouldn't be on that so soon."

"I can't see you getting much done around here without Tess. No offense, but you and Reeve aren't particularly skilled in all areas. You can't use a computer to save your life, and Reeve's not the strongest fighter I know. You need Tess to back you both up in both areas. Seeing as we don't have Tess, I'll have to do it instead."

"Rose, I am against this. I want you to know that."

"Duly noted."

"But I know that even if I tell you not to, you will. That's something I've learned at least." He started off down the corridor after her. "Just take it easy. Don't do anything you don't feel ready for."

"I won't." She halted, looking back over her shoulder with a thoughtful frown. "Do you want anything?"

Evan hesitated. "S'cuse me?"

"I'm going outside. Do you want anything."

He couldn't believe it. "Did you listen to a word I just said?"

"Yes. You told me not to do anything I don't feel ready for." She made for the lobby stairs. "I'm going to look for a mechanic. Before you say anything more, I'm not going out like this. I'm going to take a detour through the Turks' quarters and pick up some regular clothes. I left some here last time around." Obviously her confidence hadn't rubbed off on him. "I'll be fine."

"Like you are now?" To his surprise she snarled, throwing a punch into the wall.

"I know what I'm doing! Why can't you just trust me for once?! I am not a child Evan!"

"I'm not saying you are." He was stunned. Up until now her violent mood swings had seemed like a thing of the past. She still had those teenage rages inside it appeared.

"I'm going. I'll see you later." Without another word she started off onto the landing.

Evan made no move to follow, staring down the empty corridor with a blank expression. "Can't even control my own subordinates now. Well I'm making good of this situation." Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and wandered off towards the Presidential office.

---------

Cloud had tried to lump Cid and Red on her again, but not this time. For once Yuffie felt like working alone. She needed some alone time to gather her thoughts and plan an attack on Trey. He was a wily one, so it would take some serious planning. Turning a twirl as she walked, she looked up at the sky, wrinkling her nose as a raindrop hit her cheek. Yes the rain was coming down in big drops, but it didn't hurt when it hit; it just soaked through your clothes in no time and left you a little chilly.

Yuffie didn't care. The nice cool rain actually lifted her spirits rather than dampened them like it did the others. She leant against the pub wall, folding her arms across her chest. Speaking of the others, she hadn't seen Vincent for some time. Maybe he was off keeping an eye on Trey. He usually listened to her, even when the others said they didn't care, or they didn't want to hear it. Cid listened to her also, but usually kept up a pretence that he didn't want to know.

She smiled, remembering the time she went with Cid and Vincent to the Corel reactor, and the manic train ride that followed. Yeah she'd been scared. Terrified for a minute there, but in her heart of hearts she knew that Cid would get them out of it. He was a whizz with machines, no doubt about that. He was just a bit grumpy, and it was fun to play on it. He didn't really hate her either – it was almost a sort of game now that they called each other names and acted as though they despised one another; a kind of competition to see who could come up with a better insult. So far Cid was ahead by miles, but only because he knew every swear word under the sun, and every insult for that matter. Never mind. She had teenage tantrums up her sleeve. She could mix and match on the spur of the moment and find something truly awe inspiring.

None of that mattered right then. About to go on her way, she squeaked as someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the pub tunnel. The scenery went by in a blur, suddenly finding herself forced up against the wall, looking back at Trey and Vincent. This could not be good...

Trey looked as though he could murder her, a look of pure thunder on his face as he stared back at her with those piercing blue eyes of his. Vincent was the picture of serenity, standing back and watching Trey do his thing.

Feeling shaky, Yuffie looked at Trey. "What are you gonna do?" To her surprise, he took one hand off her arm and waved, flashing her a bright white grin.

"Hi Yuffie!" He sang, letting her go and taking a few steps back. Horrified, she sprawled up against the wall.

"What's going on? What are you planning?!"

Trey looked crushed. "Me? Planning? How could you suggest something so nasty?"

"Because you're evil!" She screeched back, snatching a cure from her materia pouch and hurling it at him. "Leave me alone!" She looked at Vincent. "Don't let him get me! He's gonna do something sneaky!"

Vincent smirked, turning his back on them and wandering away to pick up her discarded materia. Trey sighed. "Enough of this. I'm just gonna cut to the chase. Yuffie, I'm sorry about your hand."

She tilted her head, "Huh?"

"See, I'm not really interested in helping you guys out. I lost someone in Midgar, and I just want to find out if they're okay."

"Tell her the whole truth, Trey." Vincent commanded him, leaning against the opposite wall, rolling the green materia around the back of his hand.

Trey took a sharp breath, "Sure thing, boss." and addressed Yuffie. "Vinny and I used to work together, a long time ago. Don't get me wrong, I don't work with the Shinra now. I left the company more than twenty years ago. I just needed some way of getting to Junon."

Yuffie frowned, "Why?"

"Because if I know my boy, and I do, he'll head there. Never was a small town kinda guy. He'll go where the booze is."

Vincent broke away from the wall to hand her materia back to her. "Trey is Reno's father." He explained, closing her hand around the shiny green orb.

Yuffie stared at Trey in disbelief. "You're looking for Reno?"

He nodded. 'Mmhmm. He's sorta my responsibility. Besides, he's probably hungry by now, seeing as he didn't turn up for dinner." He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I kind of feed him."

"You wouldn't believe it, but he loves Reno."

"Much as I hate to admit it, he's right. That's why-" He got down on his knees in front of Yuffie and clasped his hands, "I need you to keep quiet about what I did back at Midgar. The whole ex-Turk thing isn't good in itself, but if Dunderhead and the others find out I hurt you, it's end game."

Yuffie didn't know what to say. Here was her enemy, on his knees asking her a favour. This was so cool! "I'll think about it, but if I say yes it doesn't mean I like you. Get that into your dumb red head."

"Yes ma'am."

Vincent shook his head, not really happy seeing a grown man beg. In truth he never thought he would see Trey Henson begging, even if he had been put up to it. The important thing was that Trey and Yuffie were communicating, and although it probably meant Trey acting as her personal slave for the remainder of his time with the group, peace would remain.

Getting to his feet, Trey looked suddenly thoughtful, "Just wondering, but when you were charging round the train tunnels, looking for a way to Scarlet's little cannon, did you happen to see a lady? Green eyes, black hair, kind of striking lookin'?"

Yuffie shook her head. "Nup." and edged towards the tunnel entrance, "I'm gonna go and get to work." Before either man could say anything she was out into the square and gone towards the inn.

"You think she'll keep quiet?"

Vincent nodded. "When she says she'll think about it, it usually means 'yes'."

"I see." Trey cradled his chin, watching her go with a small smirk. "You know, I kinda like her. She's got spunk."

"Yuffie is... Yuffie." Vincent wandered off, trusting his friend would follow. "She'll probably tell Cid and Red XIII about you, but it won't go any further."

"You think?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Unconsciously, Trey shrugged. "You think we'll be hanging 'round this dump much longer?"

"That's up to Cloud."

"Oh joy."

---------

The streets of Junon truly were a mess. The rain had stopped and everything was slick and shiny. Though the rioting seemed to have subsided some, the place was still dangerous. As Rose walked she found herself ducking into shop doorways to keep clear of brawls that broke out for apparently no reason. People were fighting over food a little further down the street, a group of women laying into each other over a discarded bag of shopping.

For a second Rose felt as though she should try for it herself, suddenly hungry. She couldn't remember the last time she ate; until now it hadn't occurred to her that she hadn't. If she wanted the food, she could quite easily take it, the dual peacemakers at her hips an advantage none of the other women had. She shook her head, disgusted with herself for even thinking such a thing. She could make do without a little longer.

Clarity was what she really needed right then, and to remember everything she knew about the city. Before all this disorder, the place was crawling with engineers – a number of them needed to work on the various ships and planes that came in. A lot of them used to frequent a small diner. She remembered it as being full of tacky neon signs, and only serving Shinra employees. Tseng had liked the place also, and used to insist on going there whenever he was in town.

People tended to drink their problems away, and right now there would be a lot of troubled people. If the place was still in one piece, it was a good place to start.

She hesitated, suddenly aware of someone approaching her from the side. It was a man, probably in his early forties. She quickened her pace. Not about to put herself in a compromising situation.

"Hey you!" Her heart sank at running footsteps behind her, strong hands grabbing her arms and forcing her back against a store wall. "What's with ignoring me, missy?"

"I don't answer to 'hey you'." She spat back. Her captor eyed her, not making much secret of looking down her cleavage. She hunched her shoulders. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your eyes away from my private places."

He laughed, "Oh, a feisty one." raising an eyebrow as she struggled. "Quite strong too. Didn't think you would be by the look of you."

"Get your hands off me now!" Of course he paid no attention to her, pulling her away from the wall, annoyed as she fell over.

"Get up."

"I can't."

"for fuck's sake." He bent to pick her up, surprised as she rolled up on one shoulder and wrapped her legs around his neck. "What the hell are you doing?" Rose said nothing, tightening her grip on his neck, satisfied as he coughed. "Ease off!"

"Leg me go." She commanded him. "Now."

He did as he was told, getting to his feet. Rose crawled over to the wall, leaning against it to push herself up, her heel throbbing. Before she could stand her enemy had his hands around her neck, and her back against the wall. "Listen missy. I don't know if you noticed, but this place isn't much fun right now. I suggest you hand over your necklace, and we'll call it a day."

She clasped her crystal star in her hand, grimacing as the points dug in. "No."

"Hand it over."

"Piss off!"

He took one hand away from her neck and began trying to pry her fingers away from her necklace. "You don't listen, do you missy? You have any idea what I could get with this little thing?"

"Don't touch it. My mother gave it to me."

"Get her to give you a new one."

"She's dead, you bastard!"

"Sorry, but this is about survival." Changing his tactics, he yanked the chain and broke it, ripping the star out of Rose's hand to leave an angry red cut. "Thank you." He released her.

Shaking, Rose drew her peacemakers and aimed them at his head. "Give it back."

The thief looked at her, stunned. She was full of surprises it seemed. Not about to argue with pistols, he dropped her necklace on the floor and backed away. Rose picked it up, keeping an eye on him as she did so. "In future when a lady tells you not to do something, I suggest you listen."

"Look, it was nothing personal."

"I don't doubt it." She smiled. He was panicking.

"I haven't always been a thief. It's a case of finding some way to pay for things, and all the money round here's already been taken. I'm worried about the future."

"I don't want to hear it." She shook her hand. "Ah, you cut me."

"Sorry. It was nothing personal."

"So you keep saying." She huffed, holstering her pistols. "Get out of here. Don't think about trying anything with me again. I'm a quick draw when I want to be."

He didn't need to be told twice, turning and darting down the street. Rose watched him go with a frown, turning her attention on her star. In a way she blamed herself for that little encounter. Really she should have taken it off, but always wearing it as she did, it had never occurred to her to do so. 'Need to be more careful in future.' A little more wary, she started down the street towards the diner.

---------

Cid straightened and rubbed his back. Kalm wasn't in too bad a state, but the place was in disarray. Unlike Midgar the residents had stayed quiet at Meteorfall and watched. He admired their grace, all of them terrified, but none of them running riot with it. An example to be followed. Taking his cigarette from his mouth to yawn, Yuffie bounded up beside him.

"What you doin', Old Man?"

"Nothin' that concerns you, Bitch."

"Cool." Smiling, she bent to pick up one of the stones from the stairs. The force of Holy destroying the Mako reactor had also torn the stairs apart, strewing stones and wood across the square. A few windows had broken as a result, but no one had been injured. Cid grinned, Yuffie standing straight and huffing loudly. "I can't do it." She proclaimed, her hands on her hips. "How are we going to clean this place up quickly when half of us can't even lift this mess?"

"Give it another go. I'll help ya."

Together they managed to lift the stone into the nearby trailer. About four jeeps stood around, trailers hitched to the back for debris. Cid tapped on the back of the one containing his and Yuffie's stone. The driver started off, his second load of the day ready for the dump outside town.

Turning back to Yuffie, Cid dusted his hands off. "I'm thirsty. How 'bout a juice?"

She nodded, "I'm parched. All this dust's making my throat sore."

Cid sighed, shaking his head jokily, "Always complaining about something, aren't ya, Brat?"

"Complaining gets things done differently, Old Man."

Chuckling, he led off towards the bar, whistling and nodding to Vincent.

Trey looked up, a little surprised to see Cid and Yuffie taking time out. "Resting already? Disgraceful." He joked.

Vincent didn't reply, busy rolling a stone over to Barret and Red. Marlene kept out of the way, seated on Barret's broad shoulder. She had quite a view of proceedings from there, observing Cloud, Tifa and Elmyra on the other side of town, boarding up the inn's ground floor windows.

As expected, Elmyra had taken the news of Aeris' death hard, but she had insisted on doing her bit. The people of Kalm had made sure her stay was comfortable, it was the least they could do. She glanced across the square, meeting Marlene's curious gaze. When AVALANCHE decided to move out, there was something of Aeris' she wanted the little girl to have.

She didn't blame Cloud; it had been Aeris' choice to go with him and his friends. Despite knowing that, she blamed herself. There was so much more she could have done to stop Aeris from leaving, but at the same time she acknowledged that the world would be a very different place if she hadn't left.

Red wandered along beside Barret, nudging the stones with his head. Admittedly he was beginning to feel a little sore, but he had to keep going. It was his duty to help out the planet and its people. He halted suddenly, Barret swearing at him. He heard something from the bar. To his surprise, Cid and Yuffie returned with the proprietor, each carrying a tray of drinks. He noticed with some delight (and not a little annoyance) that a dog bowl sat among the glasses on Yuffie's tray.

"Listen up!" The ninja cried, drawing everyone's attention her way. "Me and the Old Man thought everybody needed a little rest, so drinks for everybody, and they're free!"

Not one person in the square wasn't grateful, Red giving a thankful whine as Yuffie set his bowl in front of him. "You're welcome, Red." She told him, spinning on one leg and darting off towards Vincent and Trey.

She offered one to Vincent, slapping Trey's hand as he reached for one. He frowned, "What's the big deal?"

"I made a special one for you." She told him, almost tossing it at him. Suspicious, Trey took the glass, holding it up and looking at it from all angles.

"I warn you," he mumured to Yuffie, his frown remaining, "I'm an expert at detecting poisons."

"You have to be, being you." Vincent muttered.

"I heard that."

"I intended you to."

Still suspicious, and not a little insulted by his friend's remark, he took a tentative sip. Yuffie stood on tiptoes, almost climbing him to see his reaction. "Well?"

Vincent tilted his head, "Well? Anything wrong with it?"

To both of their surprise, Trey cocked an eyebrow at Yuffie, "Did you put tequila in this?"

She nodded. "Uh huh."

Trey smiled, setting his glass on the ground and grabbing her in a hug and lifting her off the ground, spinning in a circle, "I love you! I love you and when this is done I'm taking you home with me!"

"No! No you don't! I don't wanna live with Reno!"

Trey stopped spinning then, looking down at her in his arms, "Reno doesn't live with me. He just comes over when he's hungry." He set her on her feet. Yuffie brushed herself down, waving her empty tray at him,

"I'll keep shtum about the whole Turk thing, just don't touch me again."

He saluted and clicked his heels together smartly, stepping back into a deep bow. "Your wish is my command senorita."

"Good. Make sure it stays that way." With that, Yuffie straightened her jersey and walked off, head held high.

Trey watched her go, standing straight when she was out of sight into the tunnel. "Impetuous tyke."

"Isn't that why you like her."

"That's a large part of the attraction."

"She's a thief."

"We're legal murderers. Who're we to judge?"

"You have a point."

Stretching and cricking his back with a loud crack, Trey turned back to the stones. "I guess we better get on with it if we're ever going to get out of here."

Vincent wasn't about to argue, not particularly enjoy hard labour. He steeled himself and got back to it.

---------

By the time Rose reached the diner her heel felt tight and uncomfortable. She leant against the wall a moment, adjusting her boot. She acknowledged it was a silly idea to wear heels with such an injury, but loathe as she was to admit it, she felt self conscious without.

At only 5'4 she felt they were necessary. As long as she could run and jump in them, they were okay. Seeing as she wouldn't be running anywhere any time soon, she figured they were all right for now. Composing herself, she walked through the door of the diner, favouring her injured foot.

The atmosphere in the place was close, a thick veil of smoke hanging in the air. It appeared to be originating from the bar. Not a smoker herself, Rose chose to stay away from its source and busy herself with finding an engineer.

Just as she crossed the room towards a group of likely candidates huddled around a table, she heard a familiar voice. "Hey! Serving wench! I'm running dry here."

She spun round, zeroing in on the red head at the bar. Now this was a surprise. Reno perched on a barstool; his spindly legs wrapped around the stool struts as he leant on the bar, practically nose first in his ash tray. He was also the smoke spring it seemed. Unable to stop herself, Rose started over to him.

"Now, that's what I call service." Reno smiled wearily, patting the waitress on the backside as she turned and walked away with her empty tray.

"Reno." Of all people he did not expect to see Rose looking back at him, dressed in civvies.

"Well, well. What have we here." He gestured towards the free stool beside his, "Pull up a pew in the chapel of fun."

Rose shook her head. "No thank you. I prefer to stand."

"Sit, stand. It's all relative."

Unsure exactly what state he was in, she tapped him on the shoulder, though he was looking at her, to gauge his reaction. Reno frowned, tilting his head at an awkward angle to see the spot she touched. "What? There something on me?"

"Mosquito. What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you are. Escaping the Shinra haters in Midgar, right?"

"I suppose."

"Good. Then as I said earlier – It's all relative." He knocked back his drink; some purple liquid that appeared to glow. "Mmmmm... There's something I've been meaning to give you for some time."

Rose watched, intrigued as he fumbled one hand in his pants' front pocket, his slow, dozy movements enough indication that he was drunk. After a minute he pulled out a round object and held it out to her in a closed fist. "Open your hand, hun."

A little apprehensively, she did as she was told, surprised when he dropped a glass eyeball with red blood vessels spidering around the outside into her palm. Perplexed, she picked it up between two fingers and examined it closely.

"It's an eye." She said flatly, arriving at the most obvious conclusion. Reno shook his head.

"It's what's attached to the eye."

"There's nothing."

"Ookay." He rummaged in his pocket again, this time bringing out a key on a broken chain. "The eyeball must have come off." Carelessly he tossed the key to her, slumping back on the bar quickly. "I'm gonna be sick."

Confused, Rose looked at the key, frowning to see some letters and a number inscribed on it: L1LLY. "Reno?" She looked up, wrinkling her nose to see him throwing up in the ashtray. Obviously he had reached his limit.

Gasping, he sat up a little, "That's the key to my bike. Trey told me to give it to you sometime. I'm not ridin' anywhere in a hurry. 'Scuse me." He got to his feet, clamping his hand over his mouth and making a dash for the bathrooms.

Rose stared after him a minute, unsure what to do. He was in no frame of mind to give her his bike. Surely he would regret it in the morning? She closed her hand around the key, remembering the eyeball in her other suddenly. She put it on the bar beside his recycled lunch and left the diner in search of this mysterious bike.

--------

The sky had begun to bruise. Evan idled at the entrance to Junon Branch, his stomach feeling uncomfortably tight. He knew that feeling all too well now. Worry, his old friend. Rose had been gone a long time. Too long in his opinion. Tessi and Reeve had started looking over the generator, the former not really too interested, the latter not relishing the idea of poking about heavy machinery by candle light. Evan couldn't blame them. There wasn't really much they could do.

He stood to attention, an engine approaching. Of all things he was surprised to see a motorcycle coming towards him. It was one of the old models that used to be commonplace around the towns below Midgar, now the slums.

It halted in front of him, Rose sitting astride it with a bemused expression. "What are you doing out here?" She queried, twisting the key in the ignition and pulling it out, hiding it away safe in her coat pocket.

"Waiting for you to come back. Where in the world did that come from?"

"Reno. I found him in that little diner. He gave it to me."

"I see."

She dismounted, dusting her coat down and straightening her scarf, "I found an engineer that's willing to help us too. Only thing is, we're going to have to pay for his services."

Evan looked thoughtful, "I see."

"No one else was interested."

"We have to make do with what we can get."

"Glad you approve." She wandered past him into Junon branch.

Sighing, Evan took hold of the bike and wheeled it in after her. There was no question of leaving it outside – any transport was a God send. He should have been relieved that she returned unharmed, and with an engineer's promise to boot, but something else preyed on his mind. 'Why hasn't Reno reported here yet if he's in town?'

(NOTE: Long chapter. The longest I've done so far for this story. I want to get on with the story as it's dragging a little in the shorter chapters.

Anyway. So, Trey and Yuffie, no longer mortal enemies. You didn't think it would last, did you:D and Reno's back, even if he is sicking in an ashtray. Not much more to say right now. I'm going all bleary-eyed because it's 5 o 9 in the am here. I've been writing this chapter on and off all day. Over the last few the writing quality deteriorated a bit. Should have done better this time around.

And there's finally a picture of Rose where you can see her face on deviantart. The first one I've drawn that I'm happy with. It is how Rose looks. stormus. deviantart. com . Next time everyone)


End file.
